#car and financial bullshit

[graunblida]

ayy just freestylin' a bit, but i i'm gonna be doing a little reworking of my portrayal of lexa and kind of revisit the roots of her characterization. while i don't think i've been wildly ooc, i do think i have projected some of my outgoingness onto her because i do not stfu eheuheuh. lexa is someone whose actions speak louder than her words and i feel i can do a better job of reflecting that. i've started implementing this in recent replies and will continue to write her with those ideas in mind. just wanted to give mutuals a heads up that i'm trying something different to see if it passes the vibe check. additional updates may occur.

also, smol update about me. 2024 has been. a year. it's been kicking my ass for various reasons, so my activity is just bonkers and i'm starting to make peace with that. i hope things are going better for others, it's a crazy world <3

[strawberry-dreamlight]

Why is it that any time I get a few hundred dollars saved up my fucking car breaks down 😭😭

And it's a new fucking car

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Tesla's Dieselgate

Elon Musk lies a lot. He lies about being a “utopian socialist.” He lies about being a “free speech absolutist.” He lies about which companies he founded:

https://www.businessinsider.com/tesla-cofounder-martin-eberhard-interview-history-elon-musk-ev-market-2023-2 He lies about being the “chief engineer” of those companies:

https://www.quora.com/Was-Elon-Musk-the-actual-engineer-behind-SpaceX-and-Tesla

He lies about really stupid stuff, like claiming that comsats that share the same spectrum will deliver steady broadband speeds as they add more users who each get a narrower slice of that spectrum:

https://www.eff.org/wp/case-fiber-home-today-why-fiber-superior-medium-21st-century-broadband

The fundamental laws of physics don’t care about this bullshit, but people do. The comsat lie convinced a bunch of people that pulling fiber to all our homes is literally impossible — as though the electrical and phone lines that come to our homes now were installed by an ancient, lost civilization. Pulling new cabling isn’t a mysterious art, like embalming pharaohs. We do it all the time. One of the poorest places in America installed universal fiber with a mule named “Ole Bub”:

https://www.newyorker.com/tech/annals-of-technology/the-one-traffic-light-town-with-some-of-the-fastest-internet-in-the-us

Previous tech barons had “reality distortion fields,” but Musk just blithely contradicts himself and pretends he isn’t doing so, like a budget Steve Jobs. There’s an entire site devoted to cataloging Musk’s public lies:

https://elonmusk.today/

But while Musk lacks the charm of earlier Silicon Valley grifters, he’s much better than they ever were at running a long con. For years, he’s been promising “full self driving…next year.”

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/09/herbies-revenge/#100-billion-here-100-billion-there-pretty-soon-youre-talking-real-money

He’s hasn’t delivered, but he keeps claiming he has, making Teslas some of the deadliest cars on the road:

https://www.washingtonpost.com/technology/2023/06/10/tesla-autopilot-crashes-elon-musk/

Tesla is a giant shell-game masquerading as a car company. The important thing about Tesla isn’t its cars, it’s Tesla’s business arrangement, the Tesla-Financial Complex:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/11/24/no-puedo-pagar-no-pagara/#Rat

Once you start unpacking Tesla’s balance sheets, you start to realize how much the company depends on government subsidies and tax-breaks, combined with selling carbon credits that make huge, planet-destroying SUVs possible, under the pretense that this is somehow good for the environment:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/14/for-sale-green-indulgences/#killer-analogy

But even with all those financial shenanigans, Tesla’s got an absurdly high valuation, soaring at times to 1600x its profitability:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/15/hoover-calling/#intangibles

That valuation represents a bet on Tesla’s ability to extract ever-higher rents from its customers. Take Tesla’s batteries: you pay for the battery when you buy your car, but you don’t own that battery. You have to rent the right to use its full capacity, with Tesla reserving the right to reduce how far you go on a charge based on your willingness to pay:

https://memex.craphound.com/2017/09/10/teslas-demon-haunted-cars-in-irmas-path-get-a-temporary-battery-life-boost/

That’s just one of the many rent-a-features that Tesla drivers have to shell out for. You don’t own your car at all: when you sell it as a used vehicle, Tesla strips out these features you paid for and makes the next driver pay again, reducing the value of your used car and transfering it to Tesla’s shareholders:

https://www.theverge.com/2020/2/6/21127243/tesla-model-s-autopilot-disabled-remotely-used-car-update

To maintain this rent-extraction racket, Tesla uses DRM that makes it a felony to alter your own car’s software without Tesla’s permission. This is the root of all autoenshittification:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon

This is technofeudalism. Whereas capitalists seek profits (income from selling things), feudalists seek rents (income from owning the things other people use). If Telsa were a capitalist enterprise, then entrepreneurs could enter the market and sell mods that let you unlock the functionality in your own car:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/06/11/1-in-3/#boost-50

But because Tesla is a feudal enterprise, capitalists must first secure permission from the fief, Elon Musk, who decides which companies are allowed to compete with him, and how.

Once a company owns the right to decide which software you can run, there’s no limit to the ways it can extract rent from you. Blocking you from changing your device’s software lets a company run overt scams on you. For example, they can block you from getting your car independently repaired with third-party parts.

But they can also screw you in sneaky ways. Once a device has DRM on it, Section 1201 of the DMCA makes it a felony to bypass that DRM, even for legitimate purposes. That means that your DRM-locked device can spy on you, and because no one is allowed to explore how that surveillance works, the manufacturer can be incredibly sloppy with all the personal info they gather:

https://www.cnbc.com/2019/03/29/tesla-model-3-keeps-data-like-crash-videos-location-phone-contacts.html

All kinds of hidden anti-features can lurk in your DRM-locked car, protected from discovery, analysis and criticism by the illegality of bypassing the DRM. For example, Teslas have a hidden feature that lets them lock out their owners and summon a repo man to drive them away if you have a dispute about a late payment:

https://tiremeetsroad.com/2021/03/18/tesla-allegedly-remotely-unlocks-model-3-owners-car-uses-smart-summon-to-help-repo-agent/

DRM is a gun on the mantlepiece in Act I, and by Act III, it goes off, revealing some kind of ugly and often dangerous scam. Remember Dieselgate? Volkswagen created a line of demon-haunted cars: if they thought they were being scrutinized (by regulators measuring their emissions), they switched into a mode that traded performance for low emissions. But when they believed themselves to be unobserved, they reversed this, emitting deadly levels of NOX but delivering superior mileage.

The conversion of the VW diesel fleet into mobile gas-chambers wouldn’t have been possible without DRM. DRM adds a layer of serious criminal jeopardy to anyone attempting to reverse-engineer and study any device, from a phone to a car. DRM let Apple claim to be a champion of its users’ privacy even as it spied on them from asshole to appetite:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar

Now, Tesla is having its own Dieselgate scandal. A stunning investigation by Steve Stecklow and Norihiko Shirouzu for Reuters reveals how Tesla was able to create its own demon-haunted car, which systematically deceived drivers about its driving range, and the increasingly desperate measures the company turned to as customers discovered the ruse:

https://www.reuters.com/investigates/special-report/tesla-batteries-range/

The root of the deception is very simple: Tesla mis-sells its cars by falsely claiming ranges that those cars can’t attain. Every person who ever bought a Tesla was defrauded.

But this fraud would be easy to detect. If you bought a Tesla rated for 353 miles on a charge, but the dashboard range predictor told you that your fully charged car could only go 150 miles, you’d immediately figure something was up. So your Telsa tells another lie: the range predictor tells you that you can go 353 miles.

But again, if the car continued to tell you it has 203 miles of range when it was about to run out of charge, you’d figure something was up pretty quick — like, the first time your car ran out of battery while the dashboard cheerily informed you that you had 203 miles of range left.

So Teslas tell a third lie: when the battery charge reached about 50%, the fake range is replaced with the real one. That way, drivers aren’t getting mass-stranded by the roadside, and the scam can continue.

But there’s a new problem: drivers whose cars are rated for 353 miles but can’t go anything like that far on a full charge naturally assume that something is wrong with their cars, so they start calling Tesla service and asking to have the car checked over.

This creates a problem for Tesla: those service calls can cost the company $1,000, and of course, there’s nothing wrong with the car. It’s performing exactly as designed. So Tesla created its boldest fraud yet: a boiler-room full of anti-salespeople charged with convincing people that their cars weren’t broken.

This new unit — the “diversion team” — was headquartered in a Nevada satellite office, which was equipped with a metal xylophone that would be rung in triumph every time a Tesla owner was successfully conned into thinking that their car wasn’t defrauding them.

When a Tesla owner called this boiler room, the diverter would run remote diagnostics on their car, then pronounce it fine, and chide the driver for having energy-hungry driving habits (shades of Steve Jobs’s “You’re holding it wrong”):

https://www.wired.com/2010/06/iphone-4-holding-it-wrong/

The drivers who called the Diversion Team weren’t just lied to, they were also punished. The Tesla app was silently altered so that anyone who filed a complaint about their car’s range was no longer able to book a service appointment for any reason. If their car malfunctioned, they’d have to request a callback, which could take several days.

Meanwhile, the diverters on the diversion team were instructed not to inform drivers if the remote diagnostics they performed detected any other defects in the cars.

The diversion team had a 750 complaint/week quota: to juke this stat, diverters would close the case for any driver who failed to answer the phone when they were eventually called back. The center received 2,000+ calls every week. Diverters were ordered to keep calls to five minutes or less.

Eventually, diverters were ordered to cease performing any remote diagnostics on drivers’ cars: a source told Reuters that “Thousands of customers were told there is nothing wrong with their car” without any diagnostics being performed.

Predicting EV range is an inexact science as many factors can affect battery life, notably whether a journey is uphill or downhill. Every EV automaker has to come up with a figure that represents some kind of best guess under a mix of conditions. But while other manufacturers err on the side of caution, Tesla has the most inaccurate mileage estimates in the industry, double the industry average.

Other countries’ regulators have taken note. In Korea, Tesla was fined millions and Elon Musk was personally required to state that he had deceived Tesla buyers. The Korean regulator found that the true range of Teslas under normal winter conditions was less than half of the claimed range.

Now, many companies have been run by malignant narcissists who lied compulsively — think of Thomas Edison, archnemesis of Nikola Tesla himself. The difference here isn’t merely that Musk is a deeply unfit monster of a human being — but rather, that DRM allows him to defraud his customers behind a state-enforced opaque veil. The digital computers at the heart of a Tesla aren’t just demons haunting the car, changing its performance based on whether it believes it is being observed — they also allow Musk to invoke the power of the US government to felonize anyone who tries to peer into the black box where he commits his frauds.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/edison-not-tesla/#demon-haunted-world

This Sunday (July 30) at 1530h, I’m appearing on a panel at Midsummer Scream in Long Beach, CA, to discuss the wonderful, award-winning “Ghost Post” Haunted Mansion project I worked on for Disney Imagineering.

Image ID [A scene out of an 11th century tome on demon-summoning called 'Compendium rarissimum totius Artis Magicae sistematisatae per celeberrimos Artis hujus Magistros. Anno 1057. Noli me tangere.' It depicts a demon tormenting two unlucky would-be demon-summoners who have dug up a grave in a graveyard. One summoner is held aloft by his hair, screaming; the other screams from inside the grave he is digging up. The scene has been altered to remove the demon's prominent, urinating penis, to add in a Tesla supercharger, and a red Tesla Model S nosing into the scene.]

Image: Steve Jurvetson (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Tesla_Model_S_Indoors.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

[geekwiththeglasses]

The fact that it's been almost two months since my car was stolen and despite being found by police I still don't have it back because everyone else keeps fucking me over.

[sanctus-ingenium]

we need to talk about Inprnt.com

Following a really good post with more screenshots and evidence by @dynasoar5 i'm going to talk about my own experiences with @inprnt and why I am about to put my shop on indefinite hiatus from Monday the 14th of August.

First of all I'll say that since starting my print shop last year it has been a significant help to me financially - I was able to not worry about affording car insurance or motor tax (together commonly over a thousand euro) when I bought my first car, for example. I am immeasurably grateful to anyone who chose to buy one and I treasure all the pictures I've been sent of my prints hanging up on people's walls. Right now they are displayed in a real (if small) art exhibition in my home town.

(top right print is not from inprnt though)

They're great prints. Never had any complaints about them. But here's what's going on behind the scenes.

Earlier this year, around March or April, Inprnt sales started increasing in regularity. I'd made as much as $600 a week during previous sales when I made proper promo posts here, but with this increase in regularity, I felt that I couldn't make promo posts every single week. And then one day, I'm not sure when tbh, the sale just never ended. It just didn't stop having that "Ending soon! 15% off your order" banner at the top of the site. Right now it says "Final Hours: $5 Worldwide shipping and save up to 35% off your order!" and not even for a second do I believe in this final hours bullshit. It's been 'final hours' for weeks now. Months, even.

Why is this a problem? Well, how tf am I meant to make a promo post for a sale that is always "ending soon!!" and then never ends. One week it'll say "this weekend only!!" and then when the weekend is over, the sale banner just changes its wording and the sale doesn't end. I can't promo this, it makes me look like a liar and a skeevy salesman by association! It makes the site look like it's 1 week from crashing and burning, and the site owners are just scrabbling to suck as much money from artists as possible before they drown.

And they are sucking money from us. To peel back the curtain, Inprnt money can only be transferred to my paypal account 30 days after the sale is made, just in case the order is cancelled and refunded. This means I used to make one withdrawal every couple of months, when there was enough build-up of money to make it worthwhile. It also forbids withdrawing any sum under $50 btw. I would make a withdrawal request and then, after a 10 business day wait, it would reach my Paypal account.

Not anymore! The past few withdrawals have taken over a month to complete. They are straight up keeping my earnings from me for longer the agreed period. This was my last fulfilled withdrawal:

Note the date.

Almost two months.

And here is the latest withdrawal request that still has not been fulfilled.

It's coming up on 1 month and if the pattern continues, it could literally be November or December by the time I fully clear all sales.

So what's going to happen to my print shop? Because my art is currently being exhibited with a QR code linking to the shop, I can't close the shop this week. Instead I will close it on Monday the 14th of August, next week. That means that on the 14th of September, I can withdraw all of the remaining money without having any left over. My account balance will go to 0 and stay there. Although I'll de-list my prints I will leave my account there, because at the end of the day I don't want to leave Inprnt. It still offers the best artist margins and as I'm now unemployed after graduating, the additional support is such a load off my mind. So this is a chance to wait and see - if they improve their services, I'll happily re-open.

It's a big deal to me because selling prints is sort of my ideal life as an artist. I never had the attention span or self-discipline for commission work and I found that it left me creatively stagnant. I always want to try new things, new concepts and ideas, and being able to think "yeah, people will like this as a print" while I experiment is honestly very reassuring. And I know that in going on hiatus, it'll break a lot of "buy a print" links in my circulating posts. Oh well lmao. If you want to buy a print right now - go ahead, it might be your last opportunity. Another way to support me would be to check out my ko-fi for once-off donations or some nice sketchbooks/comics/book samples you can buy, or subscribing to my Patreon.

As of right now, Inprnt owes me $381 (the unfulfilled request submitted above for $186.60 and my current standing balance of $194.80 which takes 30 days from each transaction to clear).

[oliviawebsite]

sorry for coming in with more financial crisis bullshit but ive just paid for a car repair and registration in addition to getting hit with an automatic loan charge and now my bank account looks like this :/ if theres any help i can get to move out of the red so i can afford gas and food and medicine it would mean a lot to me. im sorry for going thru all this shit, please please help if u can im hungry and desperate 💜

[merchelsea]

sacrifice - lando norris

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

summary: you and lando have a long distance relationship due to your hard work. you rarely have free time to attend to his races, the only one you actually attend every year is monaco's. you understand things will have to change when lando gets into a crash and that makes you want to be there with him at everytimes.

author’s note: i hate making myself go through this.

word count:

warnings: lets pretend lando crashed duriung the interlagos gp, not the LA one, for the sake of the plot :)

"hey, babe!" you mumbled as you stirred from your nap. originally meant for a quick rest before the race, it turned into a marathon of sleep that spanned the entire duration of the race. checking the timing, you muttered, "shit."

"were you asleep?" he chuckled.

"yeah... I'm sorry babe. I was just trying to catch up on some sleep debt before the race. I am just tired..." you explained with a low rumble. lando always had a away of understanding things. "anyways, how did it go?"

"not so well, i am kind of glad that you didn't watch it, you would've freak out unnecessarely." he sighed

"why? what happened?" you sat up, eyes squeezed shut in alarm.

"it was nothing serious, just a crash." he reassured. the word 'crash' froze you, an unsettling feeling settling in your chest. "I'm fine now; I'm at the hospital doing some tests."

you didn't answer him and he immediately sensed your worry, it was your usual reaction whenever he had an incident. it was your own way to deal with stuff. "I'll have to stay here in brazil for some extra days. we don't want to rush things. everything is alright, but still."

"yeah, I know. how are you feeling? any pain? wasit bad? why are you at the hospital? is there anything they're worried about?" your thoughts rushed out, anxiety evident. you wished you could've been there with him, knowing how much he disliked going through hospitalization alone.

"calm down, baby. I'm fine, no pain. they gave me painkillers for my headache," he began, his voice carrying weariness and sadness. "the crash felt horrible from inside the car, but I've seen the footage, and it wasn't that bad. I don't think they're worried about anything specific, just my racing career," he added with a hint of self-deprecating humor.

"shut up. you know those jokes aren't funny, right?" you retorted, hating his tendency for such jokes. "anyways, I miss you so much. you have no idea." placing your phone on the bed, you awaited his response as you searched for your notebook.

"I know babe, I miss you like crazy too. and i won't be able to be home for some more days, as i told you. i hate it." you both sighed. "but it's okay, i'm glad you weren't here this time."

although you felt the honesty in his words, you could also know that it was pure bullshit. he wanted you to be there more that anything, and the fights you two had over the past weeks showed that clearly.

lando felt your support fading away and, as always, he talked about it with you, but there was nothing you could do, you could not just leave your work and follow him around the world.

your life had to come first. you couldn't be financially dependent. you had never wanted that for yourself.

"I love you, lando. you know that, right?"

"i know. I love you too." anuncomfortable silence lingered, more apparent to him than to you, as you were preoccupied with booking a flight to brazil. "look, I have to hang up to do some exams. I'll call you as soon as I can, yeah?"

"yeah, okay. keep me updated, for the love of god." he laughed and silently hang up.

as soon as you were able to, you called your boss, letting her aware of the whole situation, who, understandingly, granted you a week off, more than you needed. grateful, you expressed your thanks in every single way you could.

as you couldn't just fly there without someone knowing, you called lando's dad to let him know that you were going. he was thankful that his son had found someone who cared so much about him, and as so helped you through everything.

you would obviously be staying at lando's room with him, so you didn't need to worry about that, but there were things you actually needed to deal with and that's where he was an absolute angel, taking care of everything for you.

the flight proved to be torturous; sleep eluded you, your mind consumed by worry for your boyfriend, presently hospitalized in a foreign country that held no appeal for him. the inability to communicate with him intensified your anxiety, and the endurance of such a long flight was a challenge unfamiliar to you.

the only thing keeping you focused on trying to sleep was knowing that you'd see lando soon and that you needed to be sane.

once you arrived in brazil, adam had already sent an uber to pick you up and drop you at the hotel. you were eternally grateful for him. your appreciation deepened when, upon entering the hotel, you found everything seamlessly taken care of, allowing you to reach his son without delay.

he drove you there himself, the casual conversation during the car ride centered uiquely around the topic most dear to both of you—lando's health.

every detail adam shared heightened your awareness; lando was okay, but not as well as he should be. the information failed to ease your mind, creating a lingering unease.

after reaching the hospital, the attending doctor informed you that lando was still asleep but encouraged you to enter. you opened the door to his room, and an immediate sense of tranquility washed over you. lando's peaceful slumber tugged at your heartstrings, and the sight of his features made you want to cry; you had missed him so damn much.

you took his hand, staying by his side as he slept. despite your exhaustion, the anticipation of his awakening kept sleep at bay.

lando woke up and confusedly stared at you for five minutes straight. in his head, he was trying to figure out if you were real or if his desperation had just made you up. you squeezed his hand and that seemed to clear his mind. you were in fact there.

"love?" he muttered, scared of being wrong.

"hey baby" you whispered to him, smiling softly.

"you're here? what are you doing here?" he hurriedly sat up, his expression filled with worry, like he wasn´t the one on a hospital bed.

"i'm here to see you." you extended your hand and let it travel through his face. "got the week off, couldn't leave you alone." his smile was priceless. he rushed his arms around your waist, since you were standing now, and pulled you closer to him, head in your belly.

when he told you he had missed you like crazy, he didn't define it well enough.

he locked his lips with yours as soon as he had a chance. you missed that feeling, you missed it too fucking much. you missed everything about him too fucking much, and maybe this misfortune was just what you needed to realize that something had to change. you couldn't miss him like this all the time.

it was literal hell, for the both of you.

adam entered the room after some time and, from his face, you could see he carried good news.

and you were right. "you are free to leave today, all the exams cameback with positive answers. you still have to stay in brazil, of course, a flight so long could jeopardize your health, so you'll have to stay for a bit longer, but you two can go stay at the hotel for tonight.

you and lando celebrate this little "victory" with each other and then you start talking about going home, anticipating what you'd do.

the room was uncharacteristically quiet as he payed attention to the TV and you lost yourself in your own mind.

"I think I might quit my job." you let out with your head layed in his chest. he twists his head to look at you. "what?" he asks, clearly confused, in his head, trying to figure out where all of this was coming from.

yes, it's true that he didn't like to travel around the world every year and leave you behind, and it's also true that this past year, he felt your support fade away, but he didn't want you to leave your life in second place for him. he knew, and understood, how important for you it was to have your financial independence.

he had started to feel guilty, even though this was not his fault.

you thought and rethought about it during your flight, since it was the only thing you could do. of course you never wanted that, but you also couldn't bare the distance anymore, and his accident showed you that.

you wanted to be there, to be able to celebrate every single one of his podiums by his side and not over the phone, you wanted to be able to hold and support him whenever he needed you to do so.

six years into your relationship, neither of you envisioned it ending anytime soon. if it did, you had your savings, but for now, you craved closeness.

"seriously. i want to be with you. i think i never noticed how affected i was by your absence, but i am a lot." you admitted with a sigh. helistened intently. "I want to be able to be with you."

"are you for real?" he asked, concern in his eyes. "I don't want you to feel pressured to do that. I love you whether you're here or on the other side of the world."

"I know, lan. it's not like I would stop working. I just have to find something within my capacities that allows me to travel around the world with you. and it's not like you're going to break up with me, leaving me with nothing. I have my money."

"it's not like I'm gonna break up with you, period." he smirked. "we're a forever thing."

turning you around as if you were as light as a pillow, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"I love you," you whispered against his lips.

"I love you too," he whispered back.

[bitchesgetriches]

{ MASTERPOST } Everything You Need to Know about Self-Care

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[remy]

Can someone please help me with the bill for this stupid popped tire and state inspection so I can go to work and not get my car towed by my apartment complex, something they threatened to do today because my inspection is out of date. It's $155 and I can cover like $40 of it. I'm moving across the country in a month and can't afford this type of financial bullshit

Vmo is @ negans

Pypal

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Herbie (M) ~Bang Chan

Pairing: Mechanic!Chan x F.Reader Themes: Smut | Some Fluff | Strangers to Friends to Lovers Word Count: ~10k | AO3 Synopsis: Chris was the best mechanic you’d ever met. He was good at his craft, capable of bringing your dingy car back to life time and time again. He was, also, excellent at riling you up just by existing, which wasn’t the best when you were absolutely convinced he just wanted to be friends with you. But maybe, just maybe, he’d prove you wrong. [You can find part two here]. Warnings: curvy/chubby reader · reader is clueless · personification of an inanimate object (the car is referred to by name and male pronouns sometimes) · improper use of car related vocabulary probably (author is clueless on the topic, they don’t even know how to drive) · discussions of weight and usage of the word fat (in a very neutral manner) · Christopher is Stronk · special guest appearance: Jisung.

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Author’s Note: mechanic!chan was suggested by an “anon” (👀), after they watched this performance, and i felt inspired by the suggestion, so i decided to write a little something for it. a little something that somehow managed to gather more words than i ever expected, as usual. anyway, hope it doesn’t disappoint :^)

fun fact: i dreamt once that i wrote a fic called herbie, so i guess the prophecy has been fulfilled now.

Smut Warnings: the reader has an oral fixation · the reader has sexually charged thoughts (i can’t blame her) · pet names (baby, babe, gorgeous, beautiful, pretty, etc) · lots of praising (it’s a staple in my chan fics at this point, oops) · praise kink · strength kink if you squint? · oral [M&F.Rec] · deepthroating/mouth fucking · protected penetration [piv].

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

Christopher Bang. 

The man who’d saved your ass countless times in the past handful of months. The man who’d been plaguing your thoughts since the very first moment you entered his repair shop.

And to think it was your older brother’s fault. ‘Get a second-hand car’, he said. ‘It’s cheap and super reliable’, he said. ‘Yes, of course it’ll be fine’, he said. Your brother was, ultimately, full of bullshit. You’d never trust his opinion ever again.

Getting a second-hand car was quite possibly the worst financial decision you’d ever taken.

At first you’d been incredibly excited. You even named it Herbie, after the famous car that was… Well, called Herbie. 

With Herbie, you’d be able to get to work faster, you’d no longer have to stay in uncomfortable social situations just because you were waiting for your ride for the night to take you home, you’d no longer have to balance grocery bags on your tiny bicycle, you’d be independent. 

For two months, you were living your best life with Herbie. But then he started showing The Signs.

It started with the AC not turning on, then, the wipers wouldn’t wipe, until eventually, he shut down completely. Which wouldn’t have been so bad, had it not happened while you were driving on the fucking highway. To say you were pissed was an understatement. That day, when that happened, you were fortunate enough to be with your friend, Jisung. 

Not only did Jisung calm your fit of rage, but he also told you he had a friend who fixed cars for a living. ‘He’s very reliable. He won’t overcharge you, really. I vouch for him, trust him with my life at this point’, which, honestly, finding a mechanic these days that wasn’t trying to find problems that weren’t there to overcharge you was hard, so you took Jisung’s advice and took Herbie to Wolfgang: Repair Shop.

That was where you saw Chris the first time.

You could still remember the exact moment your eyes landed on him. Although, to be fair, the first thing you saw were his boots peeking out from below a car.

“Hello?” You heard a thud after you greeted the pair of legs, followed by a very graceful ‘Fuck!’.

“Just one second!” He slid from under the car, and when he stood from the creeper, you honestly weren’t prepared.

Broad shoulders, strong, defined arms, a mess of curls on his head, plush, pink lips, and that nose. Jisung had forgotten to give you the most important detail about his friend, the fact that he was drop-dead gorgeous. Even with the oil coating his exposed arms, hands, and the smudge on his cheek, he was probably one of the finest specimens you’d ever seen.

“Can I help you?” He smiled, and God, he had dimples, too. Of fucking course he had to have dimples…

“I’m–I–” You were embarrassing yourself, barely even capable of forming a coherent sentence, all as he looked at you with a glint of amusement in his eyes. So you got your bearings, taking a deep breath. “My car keeps dying on me. I’m a friend of Jisung’s, he told me to come to you”.

“Oh!” His eyes widened and he honestly looked beyond surprised. “You are Jisung’s friend?” There was a slight tone of disbelief in his voice, and the way he looked you up and down honestly confused you a bit. Was there a problem with your outfit? It was a bit warm out and this was a nice, comfortable dress… Maybe you were supposed to wear something different to a car repair shop? Maybe it was one of those social rules no one talked about but you were supposed to just know they existed. 

Regardless, you decided to ignore the thought altogether, because he started talking again. “I’m Chris. I’d offer my hand, but I don’t think you’d like to get yours covered in motor oil”, he chuckled, wiping his hands on a rag that hung from his belt, and it genuinely made you smile. “C’mon, let’s take a look at your car and see what we can do. Hm?”

That was how it all started. Chris was polite, he certainly knew his way around these things, and every time you had a problem with Herbie you went to his shop. At some point, you became well acquainted with him, it was impossible not to when Herbie kept dying practically every other week, and when Chris was just so friendly.

You enjoyed spending time at the shop with him, and sometimes you wondered if you were being weird or annoying by staying a bit longer than any customer probably would, but Chris seemed to be just as engaged in the conversation as you were every time, so that spark of doubt in you always died very quickly. 

After a couple of months, Chris simply handed you a piece of paper. ‘Here’s my number. Text me whenever you need’.

And you did. Although, you took a while to text him. You finally did it only because Herbie had started to leak water; after all, that was what he had given you his number for. But it seemed like after that Chris and you just… started to talk about other things, completely unrelated to Herbie.

“You slut, who you texting with that smile on your face? Did you finally get yourself a man?” Jisung teased you one day when you were hanging out with him, supposedly watching movies.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “As if. You know the only thing I attract are mosquitoes, and it’s only because they want to suck my blood. It’s just Chris. He sent me this funny video of Wolfgang, wanna see?”

Wolfgang was Chris’ dog, an overly excited husky that seemed to be a walking disaster. You told Chris once in passing that you liked dogs, that it cheered you up whenever you saw them do their Dog Things, and since then he started to send you pictures or videos of his dog regularly, which you highly appreciated, they did bring up your mood every time.

Jisung blinked at you. “Christopher Bang? My friend Chris?”

“Yeah? Which other Chris do we both know?” You returned your eyes to your phone, chuckling at a meme Chris had just sent you.

“What’s he sending you? Lemme see”, Jisung grabbed your phone out of your hands, ignoring your protests altogether. “Huh… Would you look at that…”

“Why are you scrolling? Stop that, it’s a private conversation”, you lunged at your friend, trying to get the phone out of his hands. After a bit of jostling he finally relented, and you huffed as you diverted your attention back to the chat with Chris.

Jisung called your name, and you looked up from your phone to your friend, seeing his confused face. “You… You do know he’s flirting with you, right?”

“What?” You laughed at that. “Don’t be ridiculous”.

“I’m being serious”, Jisung turned to face you fully on the sofa, looking at your face very intently. He was quiet for a moment, but then he was gasping–rather dramatically, if you might add. “Oh my God! You haven’t noticed!”

“There’s nothing to notice, Jisung. Chris isn’t flirting with me, don’t be silly”, you chuckled just at the thought. As if the Christopher Bang would be flirting with you.

“You seriously can’t be this dense”, Jisung scoffed, turning back to the movie. “You do you, then. I’m telling you, though. He’s one hundred percent flirting with you”.

How ludicrous. Chris had shown zero interest in you for as long as you’d known him. You were sure he only saw you as a friend at best, and that was only because you were on ‘sending memes’ basis now, before you were just his customer with the dingy car that kept needing repairs. 

You’d admit, though, that after a handful of months, Chris had become a really close friend. He’d text you every morning without fail. Most of the time, he’d send you a picture while he was walking his dog. It could be a picture of Wolfgang, or a picture of the sunrise, or a selfie–those were the hardest ones to look at, to be honest. 

At some point, you realised you had developed a crush on him, and looking at his face in those selfies, still a bit swollen with sleep, with his hair a bit tousled, or with a beanie over his head covering his eyebrows, looking incredibly cuddly, wasn’t helping you cope much.

Sometimes he’d text you while he was in the gym, too. Which would’ve been fine, had he not also started to send you selfies when he was there. They were never anything too revealing, he’d always be fully clothed, but the sight of his reddened hands, his bulging veins after lifting, his flushed face, and just overall sweaty form was just something you didn’t need. It always heated you up, made you suddenly feel like your mouth was just too empty, it’d made your mind wander into very dangerous, and very horny territory. 

It was already hard enough to watch Chris work on Herbie. Whenever he did and you were at the shop, you’d start to fixate on the way the muscles of his exposed arms moved, or how his ass looked when he was bending over the motor to do whichever magic he needed to do, it always made you wonder if he’d be able to perform that magic on you, if his hands would touch you as delicately but as precisely as they did with Herbie’s components, or how it’d be like if you were the one bending over the bonnet, preferably with him just right behind you… Regardless, seeing him also at the gym through his pictures was just too much. He’d sometimes ask you weird questions while he was there, too, which always left you a bit confused.

‘mind if i ask what’s your weight? you dont have to tell me if you dont want to, i’m just curious. i’m trying to bulk up, you see. mine’s…’ You didn’t particularly have a problem with the question itself, you just found it odd that he asked you that out of the blue, and for a brief moment you wondered if he’d been trying to say you were fat–which wouldn’t have been the first time that happened to you, having lived most of your life as person with extra fat on their body for what was considered ideal in this society’s standards had already numbed you to questions like these.

You hadn’t told him right away, you simply sent him a ‘why? are you gonna tell me to lose weight? lol’ to which he replied a string of messages in quick succession ‘oh god no. far from that, you’re perfect just as you are honestly. i’m just curious cuz i want to get to…’ He’d go on about his goals and what-not, and you decided to humour him, since it genuinely didn’t seem like he was trying to make fun of you, he actually never brought up the topic again after that.

Chris wasn’t just handsome, he was also cute, and a bit of a dork. A dork with extensive knowledge in cars and each of their components, but with even more extensive knowledge in pokemon and each and every single type.

‘Ice is strong against dragon and ground, you see? So I have to fight this Garchomp with a pokemon that can do ice attacks, but that can also withstand his attacks, like Gyarados, you know?’ The first time Chris pulled an explanation like that, while he was still covered in Herbie’s oil, you understood why he was friends with Jisung. They were both just dorks. Gym rats and dorks. The oddest combination you could possibly think of, but somehow it just added to their charm. To Chris’ charm specifically.

That balance of his technical knowledge, his hotness, and his dorkness, coupled with just how good of a person he genuinely was–always willing to help, always ready to stand his ground for things he believed in–only made you fall stupidly deeper for him. But you decided to keep these feelings to yourself, you liked having Chris by your side, not only because he was the only one who seemed to be able to bring Herbie back to life, but also because he was just a good friend, and you were sure that if you confessed your feelings things just wouldn’t be the same.

Taking Herbie out these days was always a gamble. You never knew when he was going to break down, but sometimes you really had to take a leap of faith. Most of the time it all went fine, but today, it seemed like he wasn’t in a mood to cooperate. Herbie had decided that breaking down in the middle of nowhere at twenty hours on a Friday was the best idea, which left you on the brink of frustrated, angry tears. 

So, obviously, you called the only person you knew could help you in this situation.

“You alright?” Chris asked as soon as he arrived and stood in front of where you were leaning on your car. “Oh, God. Are you crying? Why are you crying?”

“I’m just so fucking done with this car”, you brought your hands to your face, sobbing once the frustration that had built inside of you couldn’t be contained anymore.

“Hey…” You felt Chris’ body heat practically envelop you when he moved into your space, and, had you not been crying like a baby, you’d probably feel a bit flustered about it. “Are you– Can I– Do you want a hug?”

You just nodded–still covering your face with your hands–because of course you wanted a hug. You were trembling with your quiet sobs, so a hug sounded like absolute heaven at this moment, and when Chris finally leaned in closer, wrapping his arms around your shoulders to pull you to him, the fact that Herbie had left you stranded in the middle of nowhere seemed so insignificant now.

Chris was so incredibly warm. The way he softly caressed your back helped ease your trembles, and, eventually, the tears stopped, too. So you finally moved your hands away from your face, bringing your arms around his waist to hug him as well, just as you buried your face on his shoulder–probably leaving small puddles of tears on the fabric of his boilersuit.

That was when you noticed his attire. Similar to how he dressed when he was at the shop, but clearly completely clean. His boilersuit even smelt like his fabric softener still, and… was he wearing perfume?

You pulled yourself a bit from him, and his calloused hands cradled your face immediately to wipe your tears with his thumbs. You could feel heat spread on your cheeks as he did.

Chris was so close to you still, the heat of his palm on your cheeks seeped into you, shooting straight to your fluttering heart. He truly was incredibly handsome, and as you looked him in the eyes the words left your mouth before you could even think twice about them.

“Wow. Your eyelashes are so pretty”.

A look of surprise crossed Chris’ features, and you saw his Adam’s apple bob, right before he pulled his hands away from your face and opened the driver’s door of your car, giggling. Giggling in that utterly Christopher way he always did.

“Well, yours are, too”, he said while he pulled the lever near the wheel to release the safety latch so he could open the bonnet of your car.

For a moment, you could’ve sworn his ears were red, and you wondered briefly if he might’ve been feeling warm with his boilersuit on, since it was warm tonight, which was why you had decided to wear a dress in the first place. “Were you at the shop when I called?”

“Was on my way”, Chris rounded your car, finally standing in front of it and opening the bonnet. “Ahh, Herbie. You’d certainly seen better days, haven’t you, buddy?” He took his phone from his pocket, switched on the torch, and handed it to you. “Could you hold this for me? Please?”

“Why were you going to the shop this late?” You asked as you pointed the light towards Herbie’s insides.

“Was gonna work on the bike. Angle this a bit, please”, Chris took your hand, angling it however he needed it so he could see whatever it was he needed to see–for you he might as well had been doing dark magic on your car. You saw him push cables around like he knew what each of them was for, which he surely did, this was his livelihood, after all, but it all just looked the same to you, so you were immensely relieved that he was able to help you out tonight.

“You fix cars all day and still have the drive to work on your bike in the evening?” You chuckled, just as Chris moved your hand to point the light somewhere else.

“You’d be surprised how much drive I can have when I’m doing something I like”, there was a smile on his face as he said it, and honestly you couldn’t help but believe him. Just like you couldn’t help but wonder what else he could like that’d fuel that drive of his… “Alright, we’re gonna have to jumpstart it. Gimme a sec”.

Chris left your side for a moment, and he returned almost immediately after with a jumper cable in his hands. Once he had attached it to his 4X4’s and Herbie’s battery, he instructed you to go back to the driver’s seat and to turn the ignition at his signal.

You did as asked, and as soon as you did Herbie came back to life, making you heave a sigh of relief. Chris appeared by your door a few seconds after. “Let’s go to the shop, yeah? I don’t think he’ll make it much further, to be honest”.

And honestly, you didn’t think your car would make it far, either. So you followed Chris’ 4X4 out of the area and through the familiar roads to his repair shop. You couldn’t help but feel immensely grateful, not only because he was helping you now, but because he always did it. Whenever you’d needed him, he’d always been there, which did nothing to appease the ever growing feelings you had for him.

When you made it to Chris’ shop, he simply opened the gate to the garage and signalled you to come in. You got off your car as soon as it was parked, just as Chris was unzipping his boilersuit, revealing his black vest top underneath and his admittedly mouthwatering arms as he tied the top part of the garment around his waist.

“Thank you, Chris. Really”, you told him as soon as he stood in front of you, handing him Herbie’s keys when he opened his palm.

“Oh, please”, he waved his hand as if to dismiss the thought, as if what he did was something not even worth thanking him for. “I’m glad you called, I would’ve felt really bad if I couldn’t have helped you with this”, he gave you a smile, one of his blinding smiles that made his dimples appear on his cheeks and his eyes disappear, and you suddenly felt your cheeks warm up and like your heart was going to burst out of your chest.

Chris made sure to place a wedge behind each of Herbie’s wheels just so the car was secure in place, and then turned to you. “Come with me”.

He guided you to the sink by the corner of the shop. Pumping some soap into his hands and opening the tap, he started to generously lather the suds all over his hands. 

“Come here, you need to wash your hands, too”, Chris took your hands in his, getting them all soapy, making sure to spread the soap between each of your fingers, going as far as to rub your hands between his, or lace his fingers with yours to fulfil the task.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “Chris, I didn’t touch anything”.

“You sure?” He chuckled, but his motions didn’t stop. “It’s better to be safe than sorry, no?”

“I guess”, you didn’t think your cheeks could’ve felt any hotter. You seriously hoped it wasn’t that noticeable.

After thoroughly rinsing your hands under the tap, he gave you a clean rag to dry them on just as he motioned for you to follow him again. So you did, walking past his half restored bike and into his office.

Chris placed Herbie’s keys on the designated case that corresponded to the number in which you had parked your car, and then turned to the minifridge. “You want a soda?”

“Sure”, you took the glass bottle from him as soon as he opened it and handed it to you. You always found it odd that he had glass bottles and not cans, considering how little space he had in that fridge. When you asked him about it once Chris simply went on about how ‘Cans just don’t taste the same! The soda tastes so much better when it’s drunk from a bottle’, and as soon as he said that you just couldn’t untaste it anymore. Glass bottles were, ultimately, superior.

“‘Suppose I’ll get an uber”, you sighed after you took a sip of your drink, walking a bit so you could lean against the wall.

“An uber? Nonsense, I’ll drive you home, don’t worry”, Chris took a sip of his drink, just as he leaned on his desk.

“Aw, c’mon. You already went out of your way to rescue me. I don’t wanna take more of your time”.

Chris scoffed. “Don’t make me beg”.

“I wouldn’t dare”, you chuckled, although you were suddenly curious of what would happen if you did make him beg… “But what about your bike?”

“The bike won’t be ready anytime soon. The only reason I was coming here was because I was restless at home. Now I’d much rather spend some time with you, to be honest”, Chris took a sip of his drink again, and suddenly holding his gaze felt like too much, but the way your eyes decided to focus on his Adam’s apple moving with every sip he took wasn’t that much easier.

“You know…” Chris said after a few moments of silence, pulling your eyes back up from where they had been glued to his neck. “I think it might be time for you to consider letting Herbie go. It’s been months, and I honestly don’t think I can save him”.

You sighed. “I know… But I fear I’ve grown attached to the damned thing. Besides, wouldn’t you lose your most regular customer?” You added the last part with a chuckle, taking a sip of your drink right after.

Chris chuckled. “So you’re saying you only talk to me ‘cause of Herbie?”

You almost choked on your drink. “N–no. Of course not. You’re a good friend, Chris. Truly”. 

He placed his drink on the desk, and a smirk made its way onto his face. “Just a good friend?”

“Uhh… A great friend?” You laughed softly, drinking some more of your soda.

Chris went silent for a moment. As you saw him worry at his bottom lip and looking anywhere but where you were standing, you wondered if you had said something wrong. That was, until he chuckled.

“I don’t think I’m a good friend, to be honest”, he crossed his arms over his chest, bouncing his leg a bit. “Good friends don’t secretly hope for their friend’s car to break down so they’d call them for help”. 

You were just bringing your bottle to your lips, but his words made you stop in your tracks. “What?”

Chris looked at you for a moment. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but then he was tipping his head to the side and laughing. “God, I seriously didn’t believe Jisung at first, but you really are dense for some things, aren’t you?” 

“I am… so confused right now”.

Chris shook his head a bit, and he walked closer to you. “Let me tell you a secret…” He got into your space, close enough that you could smell his perfume, and the proximity made you swallow the saliva that seemed to have suddenly pooled in your mouth. Leaning into you, he brought his mouth to your ear, whispering. “I really, really like you”.

You blinked, and you honestly felt like your brain had short-circuited. “You… What?”

No way was Christopher Bang telling you he liked you. There was just no way. You would’ve noticed… You would’ve, right? You definitely would’ve… Wouldn’t have you noticed?

Suddenly you remembered Jisung. How he’d tried to tell you multiple times throughout the past few months that Chris was flirting with you, that you should shoot your shot, but you honestly had never believed him, because it seemed just so ridiculous to you that Chris could even look at you in that light.

“I’ve, uh… liked you for a while. A long, long while”, Chris pulled himself away from your space completely, and he looked at your face for a moment. A moment that you stayed completely silent, still trying to process the fact that Chris liked you… And for a while now.

You saw his brows furrow as he chewed on his bottom lip. Then he was speaking again. “I just… couldn’t keep quiet about it anymore. When we hugged earlier I realised I wanted to do that more, and that I should probably grow a pair and tell you already. I’d like to take you on a date, if you want, but I can understand if you don’t want to…”

He was rambling. A lot. Saying a lot of things. This was the Nervous Chris you’d only seen a couple of times, the Nervous Chris whose coping mechanism was just to jump to conclusions and talk in a single breath. Suddenly, it all seemed to click into place. The good morning texts, the selfies, the late night talks at the shop after Herbie had died on you time and time again, it was so clear to you now.

“If you don’t like me back that’s fine, you can just say so, I won’t take it to hear–”

You kissed him.

It was barely anything. Just a peck on the lips, but it was enough to shut him up, enough to make his eyes go wide in surprise, and, to your own selfish delight, enough to bring a delicate blush to his cheeks.

“I like you, too”, you said simply, still a bit shocked by his confession, a bit shocked by your confession coming out of your own mouth. You honestly never thought you’d be able to say that to him out loud, but you did. Just like he had.

Chris looked stunned for a bit. But that stunned look didn’t last long, it quickly turned to something else, something raw and incredibly alluring. Stepping into your space again, he brought a hand to the back of your head, holding you in place just as his other hand took the bottle from your hands to place it on the tool cart next to you, right as his lips found yours.

This kiss was nothing like the peck you’d given him. It was loaded with need and want and lust. So much of all of it you couldn’t even believe how blind you’d been. Every press of his lips against yours kindled the fire that started to burn in the pit of your stomach. When his hand joined the other cradling your head, you just couldn’t help the small whimper that came out of your mouth, and that tiny noise seemed to have spurred Chris on, enough to press you flush against the wall as his tongue made its way inside your mouth, as your arms wrapped around his waist.

Heat was spreading quickly inside of you, and you were starting to feel lightheaded–whether it was due to the shock, or due to how Chris was pressing you against the wall, or due to the motions of his kiss and the lack of oxygen, you weren’t too sure. One of your hands laid palm flat on the small of his back, while the other pressed between his shoulder blades, and the hum that came out of his mouth seemed to have travelled all the way to your heart, making it beat even faster in your chest.

Chris detached his mouth from yours, only for a moment, enough to talk. “Does this mean…” He pressed another kiss on your lips. “That you’d like…” And another. “To go on a date?” This kiss lasted a bit longer than the others, it lasted until you nodded your head.

“Yes”, you pressed a kiss on his lips, just as your arms moved to loop around his neck and his wrapped around your waist, keeping you impossibly closer to him. “Would love to”.

He hummed again, and he immediately resumed the soft movement of his lips on yours. Keeping you tight against him for a while. Until it seemed like his brain had caught up with him. 

“We should probably stop”, but he didn’t stop kissing you, just like you didn’t, either. You just couldn’t get enough of his full lips on yours, of his tongue pushing against yours.

“Do you want to?” Your fingers made their way through the curls at the back of his head, holding the strands between them just how you’d dreamt to do so many times throughout the past handful of months.

“God, no”, and you believed him, not only because of how desperate he sounded when he said it, but also because he just kept kissing you, talking in between quick pecks of his lips. “But I don’t want… to make it seem… like this is all I want… You know?”

You knew. You knew because you were thinking exactly the same thing. You could feel him against your pubic bone, hard, warm, and it all made you incredibly wet, maybe embarrassingly so. But this was Chris, it was hard to feel embarrassed with him, which was part of the reason why you had developed feelings for him in the first place.

You hummed, just to let him know that you understood what he was trying to say without removing your lips from his. As you kissed him, as you felt him and his warmth, your mind started to cloud a bit. The mix of his motions, of the months and months of pining for him, and the even more months of self-inflicted celibacy clearly made it so logical thinking wasn’t your strongest attribute at this time.

“Would you still… take me on a date… if I sucked you off right now?” The words flew past your mouth between kisses, too fast for you to even think twice and stop them.

“Shit…” Chris pulled himself away from your lips completely, looking you in the eyes. As you took in the flush on his face, his plush, kiss-bitten lips, and his blown pupils, you couldn’t help but think just how incredibly beautiful he looked like this. “Are you being serious?”

“Dead serious”, your chest was heaving, and your fingers carded through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp with your nails, making Chris bite his lip and take a deep breath.

“Of course I would. I’d take you to the fucking moon even if I got it wet right now”.

You chuckled at that, and pressed a brief kiss on his lips. “A date is enough, babe”.

“Babe, huh?” Chris took a deep breath, just as you pushed him away from you a bit, enough to have space so you could drop to your knees, uncaring of your bare skin touching the floor. All you could care about was the outline of his length against his clothes when you pressed your hand on it.

“Sorry, you don’t like ‘babe’?” You looked up at him, right in the eyes, just as you untied the sleeves of his boilersuit from around his waist.

“I like it a lot, actually”, there was a bit of a smug smirk on his face, and it had you licking your lips.

Just as you were about to pull the bottom of his suit further down, he brought a hand to one of yours, diverting your eyes back up to his. His gaze had softened, and the smile on his face coupled with that look in his eyes made you flush further. “You don’t have to, seriously. Don’t feel obligated to do it”.

“I don’t”, you reassured him. “I want to do it. Badly. But only if you want it, too”.

“Fuck… I do. So bad”, he licked his lips, and he moved his hand away from yours to place it on your head instead. “You’ve got no idea how much, shit…”

So you resumed your motions, tugging his bottoms along with his underwear, enough for his length to spring free of its confinements. You weren’t surprised with the sight, honestly. A pretty face like his surely came with a pretty cock, too. So of fucking course it was pretty, especially so as precum pooled at its tip, especially when it looked just so delectably hard. It was a bit on the girthier side, but nothing too crazy, nothing you couldn’t handle. If anything, it just made your mouth water, and you licked your lips in anticipation.

“Shit…” You took him in your hand, spreading around the bead of precum that had collected on his tip to give him a couple of tentative pumps, making him swear under his breath and bite his bottom lip. “How do you like it?”

“Fuck… sloppy. Make it as wet as you can, the messier the better”, the words flew past his lips, completely shamelessly, almost as if he didn’t even need to think about them. Chris seemed to be transfixed on the sight of your hand working his length, and you took that opportunity to spit on it, making him groan while you started to coat him in your saliva.

So you delayed no further, dying for a taste, and a taste you got. As soon as your lips wrapped around his tip Chris swore. Loudly. He threw his head back and his fingers seemed to tighten a bit on your head, but he didn’t move you, he let you keep the pace as you saw fit. You started slow, holding him by the base and just bobbing your head for your lips to repeatedly catch on the ridge of his head and for your tongue to rub against the frenulum on the underside, taking him deeper into your mouth with every other stroke.

The moment you opened your eyes and your gaze found his, your inner walls involuntarily clenched around nothing, and suddenly you felt like you needed some relief. But you ultimately decided to keep your focus on Chris, on his lustful gaze, on his furrowed brows, on his gentle hold on your head, and the grunts and groans threatening to come out of his mouth, dampened by the way his teeth trapped his bottom lip.

He wanted it messy and sloppy, so you were ready to give it to him messy and sloppy. It’d been a while since you’d done this, but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try. With a deep breath, you took him in deeper, breaching past the initial resistance for him to ease into your throat.

“Oh, fuck… You’re kidding… Shit…” Chris threw his head back, letting the most delicious noises out of his mouth, almost making you lightheaded with how aroused his heavy cock in your mouth coupled with his blissed out sounds got you.

You took your time slurping him up, uncaring if saliva dribbled out of your mouth as you worked against your gag reflex, feeling tears quickly collect in the corner of your eyes. When you felt confident enough with your motions, you brought your hand to his that held your head in place, while you placed the other on his hip, holding him tightly. 

“You want me to move, pretty? Fuck your perfect little mouth?” You nodded in response, humming around his length.

Slowly, he started to thrust into your mouth. Chris was being extremely careful, being mindful of every controlled push of his hips, but even with his slow pace, you couldn’t help but moan as soon as he started moving, making him groan in response. That was when you finally gave into your own desires, moving your hand away from his that lay on your head to bring it under your dress so you could press circles on your clit over your underwear, eliciting broken whimpers from your mouth.

“Shit, look at you…” Chris looked fucked out of his mind already, with his heaving chest and the increasing pace of his hips. You were sure you weren’t looking any more collected than he was, especially when you started to feel tears finally fall from the corner of your eyes every time you blinked.

With one particularly precise thrust of his hips, Chris’ length went in further than you were used to, essentially choking you on his cock, making you gag harshly. Chris pulled his length out of your mouth, and you gasped for air immediately.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, so fucking good with that mouth… Come here, beautiful”, Chris helped you to your feet, wrapping his arms around your waist once you were standing on your feet and pressing kisses all over your cheeks. You were still panting a bit, flushed from exertion, but Chris kissed you anyway, and you kissed him back, holding onto his shoulders for dear life. “Need to taste you”, he mumbled between pecks of his lips. “Please, please, please let me eat you out”.

You just nodded, very eagerly if you might add. But you honestly couldn’t find it in you to be embarrassed about it, not when Chris begged so fervently for it. Just the thought of seeing him between your legs had you already clenching with need.

While you kissed, Chris removed his arms from your waist. You felt him fumble with his underwear and his boilersuit, hastily wrapping it around his waist, and before you could even register what he was doing, he was taking a hold of your ass and scooping you into his arms.

“Chris, fuck, wait. I’m heavy as hell”, you were slightly alarmed, but your legs wrapped around his waist for stability anyway just as you held onto his shoulders.

“Heavy?” Chris chuckled, moving towards his desk. “Baby, I can lift almost thrice your weight”.

“You, what?” You asked, a bit confused–and also aroused, because, fuck, how strong was this man…–Chris pushed away some of the items on his desk to sit you on it, close to the edge. After all the revelations that had come to light earlier, it finally dawned on you. “Is that… why you asked what my weight was all those months ago?”

“Of course! Needed to make sure that if I ever got a chance I was able to do everything I wanted”, he dropped to his knees, starting to press tender kisses up your shins. “Must admit I had to stop whole hip thrust sets sometimes because I’d get so fucking hard halfway through, fuck”.

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, a hearty, and slightly incredulous laugh. “Holy shit. I genuinely thought you would tell me I had to lose weight at some point”.

“What? I’d never”, Chris chuckled, bringing his hands to your thighs, squeezing them. “I mean, it’s your body, you can do whatever you want, but know that I find you incredibly attractive however you look”, he moved his hands further up, right under the hem of your dress to finally hook his fingers on the waistband of your underwear. “Can I take these off, gorgeous?”

“Yes”, you giggled, feeling yourself heating up further just by his words and the feeling of his hands on your skin. With your hands on the desk you lifted your hips enough for him to slip the garment down your legs and off of you. He threw your underwear on the desk, and they landed somewhere behind you.

Bringing his hands back to your thighs, Chris rubbed circles with his thumbs for a second, only to finally move them further up, catching the hem of your dress and bringing it with him as he went. You chewed on your bottom lip, feeling a bit nervous all of a sudden. That was, until he finally pushed your legs apart. With the way he swore under his breath and the way his eyes seemed to get impossibly darker as soon as he took sight of your seeping core, any nervousness seemed to have been obliterated, and you couldn’t help but feel just so incredibly wanted.

“Fuck… Even here, huh?” He threw your legs over his shoulders, and you felt yourself heat up in anticipation. “Plump, pretty… Shit…”

Desire pooled in the pit of your stomach, it was honestly almost pathetic how affected you felt just by the things he was saying and the sight of him between your legs.

“You know…” Chris pressed his lips to your inner thigh, sucking harshly, leaving marks on your skin, making you inhale a shaky breath. “This is the exact same dress you were wearing the first time you came into my shop”.

Your eyes widened a bit in surprise. “You remember what I was wearing?”

“Hm, ‘course I do”, he moved his attention back to your eyes, just as he pressed a chaste kiss on your inner thigh. “I’ve been dreaming of you in this fucking dress for months, baby…”

“You have?”

“I have”, one of his hands came to grip your thigh, while the other moved to your hip, giving you a hefty squeeze. “How do you like it, pretty? Or how do you not like it, for that matter?”

You licked your lips, suddenly transfixed by the sight of his lips brushing your skin. “Gentle sucks go a long way. I’m a bit, uh… sensitive”.

“Sensitive, huh? ‘Course you are… Hold this for me, hm?” He took a hold of your hand and brought it to one of your thighs, just as he spread you open further, propping your foot on the desk. So you did as asked, keeping your legs open as he diverted his attention back to your heat. “Good girl… Just like that…”

As soon as he spread you with two of his fingers, and he dived, landing soft, tentative licks on your clit, you knew you were done for. Your whole body jolted a bit, and a soft whimper escaped your mouth. “Oh, fuck…”

Chris just hummed, moving to lick at your entrance, getting a taste of your essence with his brows pulled together, looking just so fucking delighted. Just the thought that he was genuinely enjoying himself got you moaning a bit louder under the quickening movements of his tongue, and as soon as his lips pressed on your clit, giving you those gentle sucks you had asked for, your mind just disconnected completely.

He took his time working you up, turning you to a whimpering mess just with his lips and his tongue, gradually increasing his tempo to build your upcoming release. Whenever he dipped lower to lick at your entrance, his nose would bump your clit with every movement of his head, he was essentially making out with your cunt and you would gladly let him do whatever and however he wanted. Your nerve endings were on fire, your toes curled with need, and your walls clenched with his unrelenting pace.

When he detached his mouth from your core you almost wanted to cry, but he only did it for a second, enough to ask a “Fingers, baby?” only to press his lips to your sensitive skin again, sucking your clit into his mouth and licking it with his tongue.

You weren’t sure if the ‘Yes’ actually came out of your mouth, you vaguely only registered your eager nodding and the soft moan that escaped your lips as soon as you felt one of his digits at your entrance. Chris groaned against your skin as soon as he inserted the first finger to the knuckle, the vibration of the sound further fueling that fire in the pit of your stomach. He pumped his finger in tandem with his tongue on your clit, touching and prodding and gauging your reactions to his every move.

One particularly sharp nudge of his finger on your walls had you moaning a bit louder than you were before, and Chris seemed to have picked it up immediately, because he plunged a second finger right after and started pumping his digits in and out, hitting that sweet spot over and over while his lips gently sucked on your clit. You needed to have a hand on the desk to keep yourself up, to maintain some stability, so you shuffled your foot a bit and simply let go of your thigh to bring the hand that was holding it to his head, burying your fingers in his hair and pushing him further against you with a whimper.

Chris groaned as soon as your fingers threaded through his hair, immediately picking up the pace of his fingers and his tongue, bringing you further and further towards the edge, and God if you needed to tip over that edge… With how well he was working you up you felt your lower belly tighten with exertion, and your walls spasm more frequently around his fingers.

“Chris… Fuck, fuck, I’m so fucking close, please–” You almost choked with the moan that came out of your mouth after you spoke, since Chris immediately started ramming his fingers into you harder, faster, just as his plush, now swollen lips kept sucking that sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs.

He was absolutely determined to give you your relief, and as soon as you were able to open your eyes and look at him, the look in his eyes, lustful, greedy, was enough to finally push you over the edge. Searing heat spread all over your body with your release, pure pleasure overflowed each and every one of your senses, making you perceive nothing but Chris, Chris, Chris, and his lips between your legs, and his hair between your fingers, and his fingers inside of you.

Chris’ motions didn’t relent until you were thoroughly satisfied, until you weakly pushed on his head with a ‘Shit, baby, enough, please’ when he had you on the brink of oversensitivity. As soon as his mouth detached from your heat, he pulled his fingers out and brought them to his lips, sucking them clean before he finally stood up and caught your mouth in a heated kiss. The fact that you could taste yourself on his lips only seemed to spur you on further, making you whimper while you brought a hand to the back of his head and took a handful of his curls to finally get completely lost in the motions of his kiss.

“So pretty, fuck…” He mumbled when his mouth disconnected from yours, cradling your head in his hands as he smothered your face with kisses. “So fucking gorgeous when you come for me, shit…”

His borderline adoring words had you feeling tingly all over, somehow both making your heart swell in your chest and your walls involuntarily flutter even when they were still sporadically spasming from the after effects of your orgasm. When Chris kissed you again, you looped your arms around his neck just as his hands found your hips, pulling him flush to you, heaving chest against heaving chest, getting lost in the feeling of his lips on yours and his hands kneading your flesh.

“Holy fuck”, you chuckled as soon as Chris’ lips parted from yours, and he followed suit, chuckling while he made his way to your neck, to press kisses all over your skin.

“Mmm, I know, right?”

Chris hugged you close, leisurely kissing and licking your neck and shoulders. His soft, lingering touches seemed to shoot straight to the deepest areas within your heart, and even though you’d just had a mind-numbing orgasm, you certainly wanted more. More of him.

“Chris?” You mumbled, hugging him a bit tighter.

“Mm?”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, then moved to take his earlobe between your teeth, tugging gently before you whispered, “want you”.

Chris took in a shaky breath, and he pulled himself away from your neck to look at your face. God, you wanted to kiss him, his flushed face and his swollen lips would be a sight that’d haunt your wettest dreams from now on, you just knew. 

He licked his lips. “We don’t have to, pretty”.

“Mm… You’re right, we don’t have to”, dragging one of your hands from his shoulders, down his chest, his abdomen, all the way to his length, you pressed your palm firmly, feeling him still hard under your grasp. “But do you want to?”

“Fuck, yeah, I want to”, Chris held your hips tighter, and you wondered if you’d see bruises tomorrow just as he placed a kiss on your lips. “I want you so bad”.

“You have me. Right here, baby. You can have me right here”, you mumbled against his lips, pressing a kiss there right after, just as Chris swore under his breath.

“Shit… Gimme a sec”, he detached himself from you, rounding the desk and pulling one of the drawers open, muttering to himself. “There were some here, I’m sure…”

You turned to look at him, oddly amused by the way he carelessly moved things around in his drawers. “What are you looking for?”

“Aha! These”, he pulled a three piece box of condoms, and he turned it around a few times in his hand with a frown on his face. “I seriously hope these aren’t expired…”

You chuckled at the sight of his focused face, amused, but also incredibly curious. “Why do you even have a box of condoms in your desk’s drawers? How many girls have you had in here?”

“Believe it or not, you’re the first one”, he chuckled, opening the package and taking one of the foil packets out, examining it closely for a moment, only to finally heave a sigh of relief. “Thank God. Not expired”.

With a smile on your lips, you quirked a brow at him, just as you watched him round the desk again to stand in front of you. He shrugged to your silent question, taking the foil packet between his teeth so he could untie the top of his boilersuit from around his hips and tug the rest and his underwear down enough so his length was free again, and you’d admit you got a bit distracted by the sight.

With the corner of the condom packet still held in place by his teeth, he finally tore it open, and you took the bit of foil that was still in his mouth to drop it somewhere on the desk while Chris carefully slid the condom down his length.

“You’d be surprised how many things a condom can be used for when working with cars. They’re always useful when you need to get creative and use whatever you have at hand”, Chris stood between your parted legs, placing his hands on your hips and squeezing.

“What kind of MacGyver bullshit is that?” You chuckled, but the sound quickly turned into a surprised yelp when Chris held you tightly and pulled you closer to the edge of the desk.

“They’ve always been helpful when I’ve needed them”, leaning into you, Chris placed a hand on your cheek, pulling you into a kiss just as he rubbed the tip of his cock up and down your slit, spreading your juices around and teasing your clit in the process, making you whimper into his mouth. “But I’ll be honest, I’ve never been more happy to have them at hand than I do right now”.

You brought a hand to play with the hair at the back of his head, pulling him for a brief kiss. “Put them to good use, then”.

“Demanding, are we?” Chris chuckled, but he lined himself with your entrance anyway, slowly easing his length into your heat. “Oh, shit…”

It was a stretch, alright, but he was being just so incredibly careful, and you appreciated it, you really did. But you were also incredibly desperate to be filled, so you wrapped your legs around his torso and pushed on his ass with your heel, urging him on, making him jut his hips further forward.

“Shit… Have mercy on me, will you?” He mumbled against your cheek, pressing a soft kiss on your skin while his now free hand made its way to your hip again, holding you tightly.

“Want you”, you replied simply, probably whinier and less demanding that you were trying to sound, but Chris complied with your request anyway, finally thrusting all the way in, making you gasp with just how incredibly full you felt.

“Want you, too”, he pressed his lips to your neck, kissing and sucking on your skin. The thought of waking up tomorrow and seeing his marks on your neck or your hips made you flush impossibly further, even as he moved along to press kisses on the exposed skin of your shoulder. “Want you so bad I’m genuinely about to burst just by being inside you right now. Need a second”.

Bringing a hand to his cheek, you made him turn away from your shoulder to look at you, and the way he bit his lip before he leaned in for a kiss had you involuntarily clenching around him, eliciting a choked groan from his lips.

“Fuck, driving me nuts… Seriously, we’re gonna have… the best fucking date ever… You’ll see…” He mumbled his words between kisses, and it genuinely had you laughing, because of course he was still thinking about your future date. “C’mon, beautiful. Hold on to me”.

So you did, bringing your arms to rest on his shoulders, burying one of your hands in his hair, all while he placed one hand on the small of your back, and the other on the desk for stability. Finally, Chris moved, starting a rhythm with precise thrusts, making you gasp at the sensation of his length dragging against your walls, making him groan.

“Fuck, shit… That’s good. So good. Feel so fucking perfect around me, baby. Perfect”, with the increase of his tempo you could barely register the words coming out of his mouth, all you could do was whine while you nodded in agreement, hoping that he, too, would know how just incredibly good he felt inside of you.

The way Chris kissed you, almost desperate, the way he started to ram into you, stretching you so deliciously you were already starting to feel lightheaded, all combined had that little bit of sanity you had left in you leave your body entirely, finally letting you succumb to just your utmost primal need for pleasure. But more specifically, for pleasure you could share with Chris.

You honestly couldn’t tell how long you spent getting pounded to that desk, you could just feel Chris’ cock repeatedly splitting you open and his lips on yours and the words that he’d occasionally mumble against your skin, his words of praise and encouragement that had you once again feeling tingly all over, words that fed that pool of arousal inside of you, threatening to spill it all over. You vaguely registered words of your own leave your mouth, too. Words that seemed to spur him on, that seemed to pull blissed-out sounds from his lips and yours nonstop. 

“Lean back a bit for me, gorgeous”, and you couldn’t help but comply, removing one of your hands from his shoulders to place it behind you to lean on it, leaving just enough space between your bodies for Chris to sneak his hand between your bodies, finding your clit and drawing fervent circles on your already oversensitive bud, eliciting a moan from your lips as soon as he did. “Fuck, fuck, that’s it, baby. Just like that, milk my cock just like that, huh…”

“Chris–” You honestly weren’t sure what you were even going to tell him, you could just feel your next high approaching increasingly fast, and you needed it. You needed it badly.

“It’s fine, pretty. Whenever you’re ready, just let go”, he mumbled the words against your cheek, pressing a chaste kiss on it, a complete contrast to his sharp thrusts and the fast movement of his fingers between your legs. “Want to feel you so bad, fuck…”

“Shit–” With a few more flicks of his fingers on your clit, you finally got that sweet, sweet relief. The feeling spread all throughout your body, dragging sounds of pure, unadulterated pleasure out of your mouth, making your legs shake from exertion as you tried to keep your hold around Chris’ torso.

Bringing both of his hands to your hips for leverage, Chris chased his own release, his grunts and groans getting lost in your mouth while he kissed you again. One, two, three thrusts and he was flush against you, shooting his load into the condom while he was buried as deep as he could within your warmth, a mix of his groans and your name and a colourful string of swears flying past his lips as he rode the waves of his ecstasy with minute rolls of his hips.

“Holy fuck”, he cradled your face in his hands, pulling you in for one more heated kiss while he came down from his high, and you couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

“I agree”, you were panting a bit, breathless, leaning back on both of your hands as you tried to catch your breath.

Chris laughed, a hearty laugh that had a smile appearing on your face immediately. Taking a hold of the condom by the base of his length to make sure it was secure in place, he finally pulled out, carefully sliding it off of him, tying a knot and throwing it in the bin by his desk. You missed his warmth inside of you immediately.

Taking a roll of toilet paper from one of the tool carts nearby, he quickly cleaned any remnants of his release from his length before he was tucking it back into his briefs, finally wrapping the top of his boilersuit around his waist again. With more paper in hand Chris asked you to ‘please open up those pretty legs for me, hm?’ so he could clean you up, helping you back into your underwear right after.

As soon as you were standing back on your–admittedly unsteady–feet, Chris wrapped his arms around your waist, placing a quick kiss on your lips only to move up and press another on your forehead. “You okay?”

“I’m more than okay”, you chuckled, melting into his embrace. “Everything hurts, though. How’re you?”

“On cloud nine”, he replied simply, giving you one of his blinding smiles, making your heart race with the sight.

When Chris finally detached himself from you, he reached for the soda he’d taken out of your hands earlier, giving it back to you once you told him ‘I still want to drink it. Even if it’s not cold anymore, seriously’, and after a bit of back and forth he simply relented.

“Would you…” Chris started to ask, while he bent down to take the bag out of the bin. “Would you like to come to my place? I mean, I can take you to yours, too, that’s fine, but I figured, you know, you could stay over, and we could have dinner, and I can make you breakfast tomorrow, and I’m sure Wolfgang would love to see you, and we could cuddle to sleep, you know? But if you don’t want to, it’s fin–”

You took a hold of his hand, squeezing it in yours to stop his rambling. “I’d love to”.

Chris just giggled a bit, pressing a quick kiss on your lips and tugging you out of his office back to the garage once he’d switched off the light. When you were outside, you made your way to his 4X4, watching him chuck the small bin bag from his office into the bigger bin out in the garage and going through the motions of switching every light off in here, too.

As you watched him, your eyes drifted to Herbie, parked in his–by now–usual spot. Maybe Chris was right, maybe it was time you considered letting him go. He’d served you well for those two months at the beginning, and when you were in a pinch he was very forgiving, but his condition was unsustainable at this point.

As soon as Chris was by your side again he gave you a kiss for good measure, opening his 4X4’s passenger door for you. You just smiled at him, pressing one more kiss on his lips before you finally hopped in. Chris rounded the bonnet and started to very animatedly talk about a funny thing Wolfgang had done just this morning, gesturing with his hands while he recounted the event, making you laugh.

While Chris drove you two to his place, with soft music playing on the radio, with his hand occasionally shifting from the gear lever to squeeze your thigh, all while a light, easy conversation flowed between you two, you figured that Herbie might’ve been the worst financial decision you’d ever made, but at the very least, he’d brought you to Chris, so you really couldn’t hold a grudge against him, not when you felt so incredibly light and couldn’t wipe the smile off of your face.

You can find part two here

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Constructive feedback (or even keysmashes, really) is always welcome :)

[f1haaland]

could you do fernando alonso imagine where he’s a sugardaddy and she’s a student in college ? reader is around 22 and the relationship originally started out with no feelings just sex, because he had a no falling in love rule, but then they both fall in love with each other ? thank you 💕

𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 / 𝑭𝑨𝟏𝟒

pairing: sugar daddy!fernando alonso x fem!reader

word count: 3.0k

author's note: shout out to my girl @loomiscorpse who help me during the creative process of this one 🤎 also, i went a little different with the "no falling in love rule" but nothing crazy

warnings: significant age gap (reader is 22, fernando is 41), brief mentions of sex, brief descriptions of oral (female receiving), not meant for minors.

reblogs, feedbacks and likes are appreciated. support your content creators!! 🫶🏽

➜ 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚 𝟏 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ༓  ༓ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

You decided to follow one of your friend's tips and find a different kind of financial help. At first, you thought it was bullshit, but after you saw her getting tons of money, wearing different designer clothes every day, and going to all the most expensive places, you just needed to know her secret. There's no way a college student could afford all that, you thought. And when she opened up to you about her "sugar relationship", you thought the worst. That's prostitution, but she promised you it wasn't. She swore she wasn't sleeping with her so-called "sugar daddy". So you decided to give it a try and find one for yourself.

She got you into an exclusive website, where you found some rich older guys who were looking for company and a young girl to spoil. Some of them reached out to you, but they were kinda boring, and their interests were only about wine, golf, etc. When you came across a Formula 1 driver, you thought he would be one of those guys, that he would want to talk to you about vintage cars or his career. Unfortunately, you didn't know anything about cars, nor about F1, but when you started to chat, he never mentioned anything about cars or his professional life. Not once.

You frequently chatted with him on that website, but you had no idea how to approach the only subject that mattered to you; money. He was so nice to you, you didn't want to seem like a gold digger. Eventually, he started to tip you, and you didn't even ask for anything. He invited you to dinner, and you got a chance to know each other better. One dinner turned into another, and another, another... And he bought you small gifts, mostly pretty dresses that you wore for him every night you were supposed to meet each other.

Today you wore a silky green gown he gifted you the last time he took you to dinner. You entered the restaurant, giving the name "Alonso" so that the waiter could take you to your table.

This time he chose an italian restaurant, where you'd be eating to candle lights. He was a romantic man... even if he kept you waiting for half an hour. And while you sat there all alone, you sipped on an expensive glass of wine that cost almost your entire rent, that he obviously would pay for making you wait.

"I'm so sorry it took me so long, hermosa..."

His voice captured you. Fernando had a thick spanish accent, that apart from his looks, you thought was the sexiest thing about him. Of course, you were there for the money, but you were not blind. You felt lucky that you got yourself some sort of sponsor that was not only very nice, but very handsome as well.

He greeted you with a kiss on each side of your face. He carried a strong, masculine, scent of sandalwood, that impregnated your nostrils.

"If you were so busy we could've had dinner another time" You watched as the spaniard took a sit on the other side of the table.

He frowned, obviously feeling your discontent "I had a couple of stupid interviews to give, I just didn't know it would take so long. I'm sorry for keeping you waiting, Y/n"

"Sure..." You pondered, drinking your wine.

"And how's my favorite lawyer doing?" He tried to cheer you up.

"I'm not there, yet" You bit back a grin, your need for validation feeling quite happy with the title, "But I'm okay, I guess"

"What about college?" He asked, and called out for one of the waiters to bring in more wine for you both.

"Hmm... One of my professors is in need of an assistant, and it's paid work. It's not much, but it will help me a lot with rent, and the tuition, and..."

"Won't that get in the way of your studies?" Fernando interrupted you.

You could lie to him and tell him it wouldn't, but Fernando was no dumb man. And honestly, you were getting tired of having to look for small jobs every time the money got tight. You even thought of selling one of the dresses he gave you so you could pay for your college tuition, which was... pretty late.

Your silence spoke for you.

He sighed, "Why don't you ask me for anything?"

How could say you needed the money? Well, you got there because of it, but you didn't have the guts to ask for it.

"I don't know..." you muttered.

"You don't know?" Fernando questioned, "Y/n, I want to give you those things! The money means nothing to me. I won't let you be someone's assistant and have no time to study. Let me handle your college tuition, and your rent, okay?"

That was too good to be true. Fernando was too good to be true. He wasn't asking for anything and wanted to give you everything. But if there's one thing you learned being a law student, is that everything has a price.

"What can I do to pay you back?"

Fernando chuckled, "You catch things real quick, don't you? You're going to be a great lawyer" He gave you a flirtatious wink.

"Fernando." Licking your lips, you voiced in an accusatory tone, "I'm not a whore."

He frowned, quite offended by your statement "Y/n, it's not like that, I would never think that of you. Don't ever say that again."

"But you gonna ask me to sleep with you, aren't you?" You inquired.

"No..." Fernando smirked, "...unless you want me to ask you to." He purred in a low voice.

And then, it was like all the noises around you vanished. You both were there, at the restaurant, and suddenly you weren't. You couldn't recall how you got to his hotel room.

And you thought there would be some doubt or regret, anything that would make you stop it, but instead, you overflowed with lust and desire through your veins as his hands touched you, squeezing your thighs and ass. You deep sighed when his wet kisses found their way from your mouth to your neck, leaving bites on your soft spot. You almost moaned.

Fernando turned you on your back against the wall and unzipped your dress to help you out of it. His lips sucked on your skin, leaving remains of his devotion marked on you. He turned you back to him, slipping the silky fabric through your legs. Unconsciously, you covered your breasts as soon your dress touched the floor, and your intimacy was protected only by black laced panties.

He looked into your eyes, searching for any signs of hesitation in you. You startled him by attacking his lips in an urge, as the hands that once covered your breasts now tangled onto his hair. He lowered his lips to your chin, neck, and collarbone until eventually, they found your sensitive nipples. He sucked and bit on them until you became a whining mess, begging him to go lower. And he did as you asked, kneeling in front of you and placing one of your legs above his shoulder. A breathy moan escaped from your throat as soon as his wet tongue touched your warm core.

He made you cum three times that night. If you were being honest, your expectations weren't too high, and he gave you the best sex of your life.

When you thought it couldn't get better, there was the aftercare. There were the calls, the messages, the surprise gifts. He would always send someone to take you anywhere you wanted and pick you up as well, and when you got home, there were lots of flowers waiting for you. Chocolates. Clothes. Jewelry. He gave you everything you could ask for, and for none of it you did.

And most importantly, he listened to you. During your calls, you talked more about your essays and the constant university environment stress than he shared about his work and personal life. He liked to listen to you babbling about attorney shit that you learned during your classes. He admired your brain more than your body, and for that, you felt seen.

Fernando was different from every man that you ever had in your life. There weren't many, as you always prioritized your studies and never had much time for dating, but you had a couple of dates during your first year in university. You thought the rich people from your college would treat you like one of them, that they wouldn't care that you were not from a wealthy family because it wouldn't matter. But the boys only used you for fun, and the girls ignored your existence.

Fernando made you forget all that.

As the months went on, you eventually got attached to him. You missed him terribly when he was away. You even took some of your free time to study Formula 1, so you could understand a little more of his world and his passion for motoracing. You started to follow the races so you could cheer for him, blushing and giggling like a teen schoolgirl every time his face appeared on tv, or screaming excitedly every time he made it to the podium.

Even when he was away, you felt like you weren't alone anymore.

With time, you noticed that Fernando had established some unvoiced boundaries; You never really slept together. After sex, he'd let you sleep in his arms, but he would leave the room once you were snoozing. On your free days, he would take you traveling with him for the races, but never to the races. He'd leave you at the hotels, with his credit card so could go shopping if you wanted to. Perhaps he just didn't want to be seen with a woman at the paddock, but you never asked why, and you never asked him to take you there.

And then he surprised you.

Fernando was having a great time after he qualified on pole in Monza, so he took you to celebrate with him at his favorite restaurant, which he had reserved just for you both for the night.

But in the middle of a conversation, Fernando handed you an envelope.

"What's this?" You questioned, having it open.

After finishing reading the pieces of information written on the paper, you glanced up at him through lowered lashes.

Fernando cleared his throat, "You're a law student, so I'm hoping you won't be offended by it"

"You're having me sign an NDA?"

You tried to sound less hurt and more unbelieving, but the crack in your voice was giving away how you felt about the non-disclosure contract in your hands.

"Y/n, It's just proceedment. Actually, my lawyer said I should have asked you to sign this sooner." Fernando insisted, placing a pen on top of the table.

You peeked at the paper again, finding a very intriguing paragraph.

Clause 3: The relationship between the parties is entirely "professional", not being considered a romantic relationship.

Clause 4: The parties are obliged to keep the relationship strictly professional, in which, romantic feelings affect the breach of contract.

"The breach of any present clause will be considered a breach of contract, in which the parties must terminate the contact immediately." You read it out loud, "Jesus, Fernando! You're basically rubbing in my face that there's nothing serious between us!"

Fernando frowned, confused, "Is that a problem?"

Yes.

Your heart ached. You remembered the calls, the laughs, the intimate conversations, everything and every moment you shared with him.

Why am I so bothered by this?

That's when it hit you.

I'm in love with him.

You haven't even signed the contract yet and you already breached it.

Yes, that is a problem.

"No" You noted, dryly, "Except from the fact that makes me feel objectified. Like I am your whore."

"I asked you not to–"

He went silent once you grabbed the pen and signed the contract right in front of him.

"Thanks for the dinner, Nando. I'll meet you back at the hotel." You murmured before leaving the table.

You were officially forbidden to fall in love with him, like it wasn't obvious before with all the secret affair stuff. And now, you had to deal with your feelings or lose him forever.

Fernando stayed at the restaurant and ate dessert alone. He felt bad for offending you and wondered if the non-disclosure agreement was really necessary. It's been months and not once have you exposed him, nor questioned his decision to not go out with you in public.

Why would you?

Why wouldn't you?

Oh, now he felt bad about it.

Once he got back to the hotel, he went to your room to apologize. Fernando found you in bed, curled up and snoozing, still in the same dress you wore at dinner. He could have just left the room and closed the door, but laid with you, wrapping you in his arms and finally, for the first time, sleeping in the same bed with you.

You never spoke about the contract again, but you noticed how things started to change after that. He took you to the paddock for the first time so you could watch a qualifying session. He took you shopping with him, not minding the risk of being caught by a paparazzi. You held hands in public. He kissed you. He did all the things you thought it was forbidden for boundaries. And still, there was nothing but professionalism between you.

You were good at pretending. You were good at smiling even when something bothered you, at lying when something hurt you, and at doing something even when you didn't want to. You got there for the money but stayed for him.

But you couldn't take it anymore. Every week there was tabloid news where there were rumors of him and many different women, and none of them were you. Fuck, even Taylor Swift was one of them, but not you. You were nobody. He was somebody.

You had to let him go.

Once more, Fernando took you to a private dinner. This was the last you were going to see each other before he left for Abu Dhabi, but you had planned this to be the last time you'd see each other ever again.

"It's a shame you have to stay for your finals, I really wanted you to come with me." Fernando gushed, "The last time you went to see a race, I won. Maybe you're my lucky charm."

"Stop."

Fernando went silent. You took a deep breath and chose your next words carefully. You didn't want to hurt him, but you also didn't want that situation to hurt you even more.

"We can't do this anymore, Fernando" You looked down at your own hands, too afraid to face him, blinking to keep tears from falling, "I can't take it."

"You can't...? Y/n, what's going on? I thought you liked this. What is the problem, cariño?" He questioned, quite worried.

"The problem is that I like this!" You raised your head to look at him. The tears fell from your eyes, rolling down your cheeks ungovernably.

Fernando frowned, "I don't understand..."

"I like this!" Sobbing, you wept your tears, "I love the things you gave me! The things you did for me..."

"Did I do something wrong? Have I not given enough?"

You shook your head, sniffling "No. I signed the NDA. We must end this."

"So is this about the contract? Fernando speculated.

"Fernando..."

"If it's money, we can do something about it. I don't know, I can give you an allowance or something, but–" He pleaded, "–please don't do this. Don't leave me."

"I'm so grateful for you, but no money in the world is capable of buying me what I really want"

He pried, "What do you want, Y/n?"

"You!" you bawled, "Shit, no designer dresses are compared to the way you kiss me! There's no jewelry, no fancy restaurant, no expensive hotel that gets close to the way you make me feel. I love you so much..."

"You love me?"

"...more than I can put into words, Nando."

Fernando stared directly into your eyes like you were in a staring contest. He analyzed every inch of your face, capturing your features like a photograph. His face didn't show any clue about what was going on in his mind. He didn't say a word. He just stared, and you couldn't look at him anymore. You felt rejected.

"It's okay, I know you don't feel the same, I know I'm not the kind of woman you would fall in love with. I get it. And, as you said, I'm a law student, the contract said..." You started another sentence without looking at him.

"You don't get it, do you?" He interrupted, getting over your words, "I do like you, y/n. In fact, you're the exact type of woman that I would fall in love with, and I did. Otherwise, you think that I would be taking you to places where you would be seen with me? I've been treating you like a girlfriend for ages by now." He beamed, gazing up at you. "The contract is over, ok? After that night, I felt miserable, knowing that I hurt your feelings and never gave it to my lawyer, so let's forget all this contract thing and move on. What do you think?"

Fernando was calm. You could see this in his eyes, and also, he was telling the truth.

"You should've told me that..." You grinned, still sobbing, watching him take your hands in his, "I've been faking smiles, silently comparing myself with all those girls that are rumored to be dating you, Nando. You don't know how terrible and hurt I felt..."

Fernando pressed a kiss on the back of your hand and entwined your fingers to his.

"It doesn't matter. You're the one for me. The only one I want."

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ༓  ༓ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

read a spin-off about this story here

[wendynerdwrites]

Another note about the James Somerton apology is when he said he didn't want to do some of the videos, but that they were requested. He said this as an excuse for his misinformation and plagiarism.

The requests he's referring to were the perks of his top tier, $100 a month patrons. The requests were PART of the perks HE chose to offer. On top of that, you had to be a $100 patron for THREE MONTHS before you could make a request.

So, basically Somerton tried to pass the blame onto his biggest supporters, for buying the thing he decided to sell to them.

THAT'S NOT HOW ANY OF THIS WORKS, JAMES.

For anyone who does not know, custom content/requests is not a perk anyone has to offer. It's something that some content creators offer for their biggest supporters, but there's no rule they have to. This is something James knowingly, purposefully decided to offer. And he was asking for a steep price.

And the people who paid it did because they believed in him, were generous, and wanted to hear his takes on whatever subject they requested because they admired and trusted him to, you know, give them the service they paid for. They gave to him generously.

And how does he pay them back? By trying to shift part of the blame for HIS laziness and HIS crimes and HIS lies onto them.

This is especially rich if you read Dan Olsen's thread on his e-begging. The man was letting his fans think the entire channel was in danger and he might be homeless if they didn't give.

And the ones who gave the most are the ones he decided to use as an "explanation" for his misdeeds.

James, if you couldn't keep up with these requests enough to produce quality work, you could and should have shut off that perk and offered something else. You could have set a hard line, finished off whatever remaining requests you had, and not offered that perk going forward.

You know how I know that?

TODD IN THE SHADOWS (you may have heard of him).

He had periods where he took requests because of unexpected financial issues. He spoke of it openly in many of his videos. Many of his One Hit Wonderland videos and at least one Trainwreckords were requests. And when he no longer needed money for his car/house/whatever, he shut down the requests.

No one forced you to offer that perk. And you charged $300 GODDAMN DOLLARS and went on dishonest, alarmist e-begging sprees we now know to be bullshit.

How fucking dare you. Those were your biggest fans. The people who literally gave you more than anyone. And you dare cite their PROMISED REQUESTS THAT THEY PAID A HUGE SUM FOR as a reason you stole others' work and went off on false, uninformed, sexist, biphobic, acephobic rants that you passed off as fact?

[supermaks]

I think this a good time as any to share what I think H0rners big brain been cooking for some time, especially after the Spa fiasco wid Danny ric and allegedly big sponsors having to step in to save Checos seat ((Im skeptical of those reports but they not really the point, Checo bringing Liberty, and rbr, a lot of money from very intense LATAM pockets never been a secret, and it does matter in the cost cap era, its just how things are. Plus replacing Checo not something that keeps Horner up at night believe it or not, and that's where my word vomit comes in)).

I been sitting wid this 1 for some time, but mind u its all speculation on my part and mostly incoherent because my brain is completely fried these days. But stay wid me 😭😭. Adrian Newey leaving-- not just because of how it was announced, the way it was dealt wid internally, the shit he's been saying to press now ((he's tired and needs a break but been shopping around for teams like he's bored on hinge)) -- was , imo, more of a statement of distrust. In the rbr project, but mainly in Horner. He no longer believes Horners ability to succeed, he prolly already knew the rb20 as an evolution of the rb19 had its set of obvious limitations when it came to suspension once the field closed up, he knew they were headed down a difficult type of season, he took a step back, he saw the cracks begin to delve deeper and deeper into nastiness between the Verstappen camp and Horner, he saw Horner refuse to take accountability while Max very pointedly and UNLIKE all the other red bull drivers refused to express his unconditional support for Horner. Quite the opposite, Verstappen began making threats. Centering the importance of the car ((!!!)) and a stable environment, not Horners innocence or lack thereof. He doesn't care about that, as long as hes got the people and the car to work wid. Keep that in mind.

But back to the Newey divorce . Adrians one of the most important figures in motorsport period, he knew he had better options, perhaps some financial motivations, why not, he said thank you, I don't trust you anymore, goodbye. So here falls a core, original pillar of Milton Keynes, arguably one of the most successful aerodynamicists of all time. 1 of Red Bulls bishop, gone. Still, they rallied behind Wache, they said Adrian hadn't been part of development for some time, their factory remains strong, they can fill in the gaps, rbr is STABLE, sure sure sure.

Imola, Canada, Spain. We all hold hands wid Max and play pretend for a lil bit. Verstappen factor and all that bullshit. But for some reason, Max delivers the same conclusion every post race presser. This car is falling behind. We are starting to struggle. The sim data and the on track data don't correlate. This car is not gonna win constructors. Idk how the fuck its even the WDC. CHECO of course appears to be driving for my cousin's bumper cars themed birthday party so we can all point and laugh and marvel at how a driver known for his experience and who's won races and gotten poles to suddenly drop to fucking p6 in the standings. Surely this is the worst driver of all time. Surely.

Austria. Rbr pit stops, already looking kinda iffy since the beginning of the season, hit a new low. Lando, wid a single good overtake, wins the race, effectively beating Max on track. Max didn't let him. And he came out of it with a points advantage too, because he made a choice regarding his driving and how he wud defend his position. In a better car, that's never a choice he has to make. But the car isn't on par wid Mclaren. Rbr factory development has, quite clearly, stalled. Upgrade packages go backwards.

Hungary. Yeah. Everything is stable and the car was good and Max was beyond delighted of course.

So, that's stable environment gone, competitive car gone, and now off goes Wheatley to fulfill his tp destiny. Somebody , who, once upon a time, was rightly identified as the guy who wud replace Christian Horner due to the severity of the allegations made against him. Yeah, remember when Horner shud have fucking been fired? But Horner stayed, Newey left, and Wheatley left. To disconnect these events is, imo, a lil bit insane. Wid Wheatley gone, that's red bulls bishop n2 fallen. I think its fairly reasonable to assume somebody wid 2 cats in Monaco is straight up not having a good time anymore.

So, where do Checo and Danny ric and that fucking seat come in. They're all part of this dance, but I think in a way that's been fairly misinterpreted. See for a long time now, prolly since he signed Danny ric to do tiktoks, even before Vcarb became a thing, Horner has not been looking for a replacement for Checo. He's been looking for a replacement for Max. Ik, again, this is me letting the voices take over. Lemme say some unhinged shit before u call the cops. Max is an impossible teammate. U cant match Max on pace over an entire season, u cant prioritize a driver over Max when it comes to development, u cant tailor a car to somebody like Checo ((which , because Im so fucking money on this, is what Horner has just claimed he's gonna start doing post Spa)) and not Max, because, simply put, the car will be slower. Max can drive faster cars, he can deliver the poles, he can give rbr a fighting chance, he's been doing that shit, wid more or less success, all season, most of his fucking career actually. Now, who do y'all know who also qualifies very well, likes a pointy car wid a shit ton of oversteer and recently been caught discussing rb20 failings wid Verstappen himself. Danny ric. And Danny ric, like Checo, is very much in the Horner camp side of things. Danny ric, rn, comes wid bonuses of loyalty and trust and maybe a lil chip on his shoulder that Verstappen quite simply does not have, or cares to have because that brother is trying to get his fourth championship, not survive f1. Danny ric comes as a success story for red Bull amidst very trying times for the brand, the silver son who bent the knee and came home to warm hugs and big smiles after nearly getting fucking taken out back in a farm by Zak brown. U put that brother next to Checo or Lawson or whoever u also have the bonus of not having one of the best drivers of all time absolutely refuse to finish behind them, which can be a lil bit annoying if the car is shit too.

Horner is a stingy, extremely egocentric asshole, who prolly shudve been fired a long time ago, and he's not the team principal I thought he was. Horner's strength as a tp came from standing on business for his WDC once the going gets hard. He's doing none of that this season, at least not for Max. He's just a man, and at the end of the day, he's got the pride and insecurity of one, too. If he thought Newey was expendable, well sure u already have a bald man in the team who gives a fuck ((????)), if he thinks Wheatley is expendable, that's pointing towards a more personal type of dutch centric trend, because if he thinks MAX is expendable ... if this 2023 Merc stinking ass fucking season is headed the way I think its headed baby. I wish him good luck .

[voxaholic]

Character Info For My Bojack Inspired Human Au

Hollywood Losers Au

Val & Vox

-Hollywood’s messiest on and off couple of just about 20 years

-extremely codependent: Val makes messes, Vox cleans them up, that’s how they work

-Vox has a shit ton of spyware on all Val’s phones and a tracker on his car and it’s only partially out of insane possessiveness. Vox’s creepy bullshit has saved Val’s life on occasion 

-“Did you hide my fucking guns, Vox?” “Yes! And the fact that you’re even looking for them right now means I’m really glad I did!”

-Met on a set when Vox was still an actor and have been making each other miserable ever sense

-Gossip rags love them. Every piece of info about them is insane

-There are at least three twitter accounts keeping track of whether they are on or off again

-Neither of them would classify the relationship as abusive but from the outside observer, it definitely is

-Val is under the assumption that Vox is happy with their status quo and Vox is, until he isn’t 

-Velvette thinks one of them is going to end up killing the other eventually 

-they get into a lot of very physical fights. Vox usually comes out worse for wear

-see when a person with a disorganized attachment style and someone with an anxious attachment style get into a situationship…

Val

-43 but still lives and dresses like he’s in his early 20s

-semi washed-up actor that got his start on some sort of law and order-esque tv show

-has bleached and dyed his poor hair far beyond repair but it is still hanging in there somehow

-has had six PR managers quit on him over the last year and a half alone

-personal life goal is to do every drug once

-trying to fill the hole in his heart with hedonism. he thinks it’s working (it is not)

-self identified queer icon

-lots and lots of shallow acquaintances/fuck buddies, very few people he would consider close

-interested in the concept of a pet but every pet he’s ever had has either died of neglect or been taken in by Vox

-outward narcissism hides a deep yawning insecurity that he’s not even fully aware of

-self sabotages a lot

-likes to be taken care of and babied but only by Vox

-retweets his own callout posts on twitter (Vox deletes the retweets but screenshots exist)

-afraid of committing himself to anything

Vox

-45 and dresses like it

-greying early (he says it’s because of Val and Val thinks he’s joking. he isn’t)

-officially Val’s agent but also unofficially, his pr manager because every actual hired PR manager keeps quitting 

-a fake bitch who doesn’t give a shit about 99% of people

-unfortunately once he starts giving a shit about someone he can’t really stop giving a shit

-has run several financial scams

-has done so much white collar crime

-gotten Val off for so much shit, like really, so much fucking shit

-briefly a child actor. it ended badly 

-apathetic about most things outside of work but fakes it well enough 

-always has like 18 different side projects going

-wants to marry Val to finally get some sense of stability in their relationship

-a control freak who needs to know what Val is up to 24/7

-the one who cooks in the relationship. he’s not good at it and Val complains constantly about how bland his food is but he still eats it

-has a blue pitbull puppy named Vark who he loves like a son

-he’s THAT type of dog dad

[deceptive-daydreams]

Rockstar!Eddie x Reader Blurb

So this originated from this post by @uglypastels but I just wanted to start organizing my stuff because I'm def writing more and I need to have the lore and shit all in one place which is why I'm posting it here.

Basically, this is rockstar!eddie having this urgent need to spoil you, he tells you to quit your job because it's stressing you out so bad and he has the means to take care of you but you refuse. Lots of fluff, Eddie is a sweetie pie with a huge heart even after his band takes off

i can see like early on in the relationship you haven't moved in with him yet and still live in a little apartment in a shitty part of town and he swears you are the one like has never felt this way about anyone before but he really tries to refrain from suffocating you with his love because he doesn't wanna scare you away. As the relationship grows he hangs out at your apartment in the evenings when you come home from work exhausted and he just loves on you and gets you takeout cause you're so tired and life has just been stressing you out with all the bills and living paycheck to paycheck. He knows that struggle all too well from his upbringing and he can't stand seeing you suffer that way cause you're his baby and you deserve to be spoiled and treated like royalty.

You've been to his house before however you dont get to go over there a lot because of how much you're working but lets just say its fucking nice. It's not super big but its so homey and also screams eddie with the metal posters everywhere and guitars and such. He even has a little pool and a hot tub that you never get to enjoy with him because of how busy you are. He can't take it anymore, he feels like you're so beyond overworked and he will not have it.

One night you're laying in your bed with him complaining about work and all the bullshit thats been happening lately and hes just playing with your fingers, putting his rings on yours and then back on his, just back and forth fidgeting cause hes nervous to ask his question. As you're wrapping up a story from another shitty work situation you're like "that's so fucked up, right!? i've been keeping an eye out for a new job though so hopefully-" and he cuts you off cause no, you won't be getting a new job that will only stress you out, not if he can help it. "Move in with me." he says suddenly. You just turn to look at him like he's insane and before you can protest he's like "no, I'm serious. Move in with me. Let me take care of you, I can't watch you do this anymore." He's super sincere about it and his eyes are all big and pleading. You go on to tell him that you can't do that, you need to make it on your own and it lowkey turns into a fight. You're telling him that you're not going to rely on a man for your wellbeing and saying stuff like "do you think that lowly of me?!" and this is not how it was supposed to go, he just genuinely wants to see you happy and doing all the things you want to do that you never have time for because you're working.

He cups your cheeks in his hands and is like "baby, I think so highly of you, I just wanna give you the world. Please let me. Let me give you all the things I never imagined I'd ever be able to." You still get defensive about it cause he's not just asking you to move in, he's asking you to quit your job and basically run away from your current life which....that's not so bad cause your current life is shit but its also so scary because its the only normal you know so how could you just up and leave it?? You turn him down and let him know that you just can't and he respects your boundaries so after that he leaves it. He still hates how miserable you are but he still wants to be there for you as much as he can. It fucking sucks cause when your car starts acting up he just wants to take it in and get it fixed cause there would literally be no financial burden on him but for you, it would cost like months of rent. To work around it, he says he'll fix it cause he has so much experience with cars and even works on his own all the time. He has it towed to his house where he can use all his tools and stuff in his garage and while he could secretly just take it in somewhere to have it fixed, he doesn't want to upset you if you found out cause he knows you would try to pay him back and he knows you'd find a way to see how much it costs and it would just add to your stress. He doesn't mind doing it himself anyway, its therapeutic so he has it up and running again in a few days.

He loves that you're so independent but it doesn't change that he just wants to shower you with everything you could ever deserve. One day he waits for you at your apartment to come home from work, he has a key and everything and he's setting up a little after work dinner date, nothing too crazy but he brought over an expensive wine for you to try and he can't cook for shit but he's trying to learn so he makes spaghetti and meatballs for you. When you step in the door, he's all excited and running toward the door to greet you, the room actually smells really good and he even threw together some garlic bread and he's super proud of himself and he's excited to see your reaction. Only when he sees you, he stops dead in his tracks because there are tears and mascara streaming down your face and you have one of those frowns that you get when you're trying not to cry but the tears are stinging your eyes. He gathers that you cried all the way home and are trying to hold it together in front of him. He just rushes over and scoops you up to hold you on the couch in his lap and you can't contain the tears anymore, you just start sobbing into his chest while he rubs your back and soothes you. "I've got you, I'm right here." He doesn't even ask for an explanation, he's just there for you and he hopes that when you're ready, you'll tell him but if not, that's okay too.

You're still full on crying, snot and all when you pull back to tell him through a wobbling voice and sniffles "I-I can't do it anymore." And he has an idea of what you're referring to but he just nods with sympathy in his eyes. "Life sucks s-so bad. Don't wanna do it anymore." You would be hiccupping and getting yourself really worked up like almost not breathing. He would shush you gently and cradle your jaw in his hand, the tears slipping down into his hand and say "Baby, you need to breathe, okay? Gonna make yourself sick." and he would help you with little breathing exercises to kinda calm your nervous system. It would work a little but you're still super upset. He sparks an idea and if you yell at him again then so be it cause he just wants his baby to enjoy life and not come home crying more often than not. He would pull your head into his chest again and just whisper "Come live with me. Please. You can quit this job, find something new that you actually like." He tries to reason with you because he knows from last time that you would absolutely not just up and leave without any plans to help pay for things even though he won't allow it. "Eddie, I can't do that to you, I don't know how long it'll take me to find something decent." You would tell him sadly although its a much different reaction than last time because it sounds like you might be on board in some way if you could work things out how you needed. "Sweets, I can't watch you do this anymore. I'd much rather you quit and take some time to find something you actually love than stay here and be sad every day. Come stay with me, you don't even have to get rid of your apartment if you don't want to but just come stay with me and decompress. Let me spoil you a little bit while you figure it out. That's all I want." He sounds so genuine and is talking so softly its making you melt.

Eventually you work out a little deal where you'll stay at his house and search for work in the area. You use up the remaining money you have to keep paying rent on your apartment that you don't even use anymore. Secretly Eddie goes to the leasing office and pays off like a year's worth of rent and gives you your money back. "What this for?" you would ask as you looked at job listings while lounging around at his kitchen counter. He'd just shrug and kiss your cheek. "Don't worry about it." But you will most definitely worry about it. You get heated again and finally pull the information out of him and he admits that he got your money back and paid off a year for your apartment so you wouldn't have to give it up should you decide you don't want to stay with him permanently. It's the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for you but you come at it raging because he shouldn't have to do this. You're trying to argue with him but he just grabs your hands calmly and is like "Listen. I had nothing growing up, I lived in a trailer park in the middle of nowhere." You're not really sure why he's going into this, you knew this from all the late night talks where you'd just lay in bed when neither of you could sleep. "I always had to decide if I wanted to eat or if I wanted to keep the lights on. And I'll be damned if I let you go through that or anything similar to that. I don't wanna spend my money on fancy designer shit or brand new cars. I want to spend it on you and making you comfortable and happy because now I can. I never thought I'd be able to do that for someone but I can now and you're my girl. Let me take care of you in the ways I never even dreamed I'd be able to take care of someone." You start crying again because what the fuck no one has ever been so sweet in your entire life and you're like what did I do to deserve this???

He's there wiping the tears away and nudging his nose against yours. You still don't want to give in but he's so damn sweet and he's being so vulnerable with you, this is something so personal to him. "I'm still getting a job and paying my half." You choke out. He just agrees because it'll make you happy but little do you know that whenever you give him any money he puts it aside in its own account for you. You end up working at a little flower shop and its beautiful, you get to be creative and you aren't stressed beyond your limits every single day. He visually sees that you're happier and you have this glow to you. One day you're both on his couch after he came home from a recording session and you worked late at the flower shop because you'd been working on some arrangements for a big event. You're both so tired and snuggly just watching some stupid movie while snacking. He's got you in between his legs and his thumb is stroking your hip, you both forget about the movie and just start talking about endless things. It comes up that you'd like to start your own little business some day, possibly your own flower shop that also sells cute little things from other small businesses (like soaps, art, etc.). Maybe even have a little coffee bar in it. He sees the way your eyes light up and he just smiles so softly down at you. He puts you both in a position where you're sitting criss cross in front of him and he's doing the same in front of you. "Let's do it then." he says like its the most obvious thing in the world. You scoff cause you don't have even a fraction of the money saved to start a business.

He pulls up a banking app on his phone and starts tapping his fingers away before setting the phone in your hands. You look at it all confused and he's just staring at you all dopey and cute but you have no idea why. He blurts out "It's yours. Every penny you've given me to cover bills. I put it away for you." You gasp when you realize how much money has built up in the account. You want to scream at him but you also know that he didn't do it against his will, he did it because he wanted to, he never does anything he doesn't want to. He's super stubborn even when it comes to his record label trying to tell him what to do. Again, the waterworks start and you collapse into him. He starts telling you "I know you don't like that I do things like this but you're my girl and I can't help it." He would press a kiss to the top of your head and you would pull back to look up at him and just grab him by his shirt so you could kiss him with so much emotion. That night you just make love to each other for hours, you can't keep your hands off each other. You don't know it but he's also planning on buying you a ring really soon and he's going to buy the one that he's seen you stare out when you've been out with him. It's a simple ring that's more dainty than anything and it doesn't even cost a lot, he just sees the way your eyes grow every time you pass that same shop and see it in the window and he knows that he's going to get it for you.

After that night you have less trouble letting him do things for you. Obviously you avoid it if you can but you don't scold him every time he slides his credit card over to pay for things or when you find out he's paid off a loan you had taken out a long time ago for that time you went to cosmetology school a few years ago that didn't end up working out. Suddenly the balance is zero and when you call to clear it up they tell you its been paid off. You make sure to give him the best head of his life but then also complain a little because you feel guilty that he took care of it. He shushes you by shoving his face in between your legs.

~end~

[bitchesgetriches]

{ MASTERPOST } Everything You Need to Know about Investing for Beginners

Fundamentals of investing:

What’s the REAL Rate of Return on the Stock Market?

Do NOT Make This Disastrous Beginner Mistake With Your Retirement Funds

The Dark Magic of Financial Horcruxes: How and Why to Diversify Your Assets

Dafuq Is Interest? And How Does It Work for the Forces of Darkness?

Booms, Busts, Bubbles, and Beanie Babies: How Economic Cycles Work

When Money in the Bank Is a Bad Thing: Understanding Inflation and Depreciation

Investing Deathmatch series:

Investing Deathmatch: Managed Funds vs. Index Funds 

Investing Deathmatch: Traditional IRA vs. Roth IRA 

Investing Deathmatch: Investing in the Stock Market vs. Just… Not 

Investing Deathmatch: Stocks vs. Bonds 

Investing Deathmatch: Timing the Market vs. Time IN the Market

Investing Deathmatch: Paying off Debt vs. Investing in the Stock Market 

Investing Deathmatch: What Happens in a Bull Market vs. a Bear Market 

Now that we’ve covered the basics, are you ready to invest but don’t know where to begin? We recommend starting small with micro-investing through our partner Acorns. They’ll round up your purchases to the nearest dollar and invest the change in a nicely diversified portfolio of stocks, bonds, and ETFs. Easy as eating pancakes:

Start saving small with Acorns

Alternative investments:

Small Business Investing: A Kinder, Gentler Alternative to the Stock Market 

Bullshit Reasons Not to Buy a House: Refuted

Investing in Cryptocurrency is Bad and Stupid

So I Got Chickens, Part 1: Return on Investment

Twelve Reasons Senior Pets Are an Awesome Investment 

How To Save for Retirement When You Make Less Than $30,000 a Year

Understanding the stock market:

Ask the Bitches Pandemic Lightning Round: “Did Congress Really Give $1.5 Trillion to Wall Street?”

Season 3, Episode 2: “I Inherited Money. Should I Pay Off Debt, Invest It, or Blow It All on a Car?” 

Money Is Fake and GameStop Is King: What Happened When Reddit and a Meme Stock Tanked Hedge Funds

Season 3, Episode 7: “I’m Finished With the Basic Shit. What Are the Advanced Financial Steps That Only Rich People Know?”

Wait… Did I Just Lose All My Money Investing in the Stock Market?

Season 4, Episode 1: “Index Funds Include Unethical Companies. Can I Still Invest in Them, or Does That Make Me a Monster?” 

Retirement plans:

Dafuq Is a Retirement Plan and Why Do You Need One?

Procrastinating on Opening a Retirement Account? Here’s 3 Ways That’ll Fuck You Over

How to Painlessly Run the Gauntlet of a 401k Rollover

Ask the Bitches: “Can I Quit With Unvested Funds? Or Am I Walking Away From Too Much Money?”

Workplace Benefits and Other Cool Side Effects of Employment

You Need to Talk to Your Parents About Their Retirement Plan

Season 4, Episode 5: “401(k)s Aren’t Offered in My Industry. How Do I Save for Retirement if My Employer Won’t Help?” 

Got a retirement plan already? How about three or four? Have you been leaving a trail of abandoned 401(k)s behind you at every employer you quit? Did we just become best friends? Because that was literally my story until recently. Our partner Capitalize will help you quickly and painlessly get through a 401(k) rollover:

Roll over your retirement fund with Capitalize

Recessions:

Season 1, Episode 12: “Should I Believe the Fear-Mongering about Another Recession?”

There’s a Storm a’Comin’: What We Know About the Next Recession

Ask the Bitches: How Do I Prepare for a Recession?

A Brief History of the 2008 Crash and Recession: We Were All So Fucked

Ask the Bitches Pandemic Lightning Round: “Is This the Right Time To Start Investing?”